Divagation
by Miss Button Madder
Summary: Joker/OC A random woman unknowingly saves the Joker's life when he's disguised as a security officer. He captures her out of curiosity and the chaos ensues.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I do not own any of the Batman characters, settings, or whatever.

Chapter One - Tall Dark Handsome Stranger

Gotham City.

It was one hell of a place. Evelyn Rivers had lived there all of her life. All 20 years of it. The gray sky was cast overhead, and she was on her way to run some errands. New clothes and shoes were in order and she was on her way to the bank.

The bank held new meanings nowadays, with the Joker running rampant through the city streets. But he was rumored to dress like a clown, so as long as she kept a distance from anyone dressed in a purple jacket and green hair, Evelyn reasoned that it was unlikely she would run across any real danger.

But she usually ignored the news. She had come to hate it. It brought unpleasant mornings and she needed her focus to be on her schoolwork and her job. She was working and studying to own her own bakery. She was going to become one of the best in the business, and her penchant for bringing others to her way of thinking was a...useful skill.

And it wasn't because she was bitchy, or alluring attractive.

Though she was, of course. Not in a way that would cause heads to turn as she passed by, but in the way that when she spoke, her quiet mannerisms and soothing voice made one want to look twice. To listen to what she spoke.

Evelyn was petite. She was an inch or so over five feet in stature, but usually wore heels to accomodate her desire for a few more inches to her person. She was curvy in all the right places, but not so that her cleavage was a point of perpetual stares. Her legs were well toned from the practice of wearing high heels and good genes, but were usually bare enough so that she could accentuate that trait with skirts short enough to draw attention, but keep self-respect.

Her skirt today was black and snugged tightly against her thighs. She wore a white short sleeved button up shirt that was left open enough to show the swell of her breasts, but was also covered by a thin black and white pinstriped corset top, cinched with a long row of respectable buttons.

However, rain was a probability, so a warm black polyester trench coat completed her attire. It was lined with a silky white interior and her own hand sewn pockets for various pocketed items.

She had foregone the hair accessories and had worn her wavy layered brown hair down. Her hazel eyes were underlined in black, and shadowed with emerald green. Her make-up was light, as she routinely applied as such on rainy days like this.

Her purse was black leather, not too expensive, and used more for functionality than for show. It was almost like a small tote.

And as she stood on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to allow pedestrians to pass, she was too preoccupied with her plans for the day to notice the group of men that were now waiting with her.

Evelyn's thoughts drifted to her mother. She had died on a rainy day. And as much as that should have bothered her, she didn't mind the overcast weather. She embraced it, and suddenly wished the heaven's would poor down upon her with violent air.

It would match her suddenly tumultous thoughts. She suddenly felt useless. Her eyes dimly roved over the people hurrying all around her and blanched at the thought that she would forever be part of a mass that was so crammed together, yet so very alone. She harshly ignored a giggling couple across the street and rolled her eyes.

Their laughing was quaint, and fake. It was a proper expression of amusement that didn't reach the eyes. Eyeing the obvious "boyfriend" she frowned in distaste as she made a quick analysis of him. He was the epitome of prim and proper. Not to be confused with polite and chivalrous. And Evelyn was sick of powdry men who were of great talk and little action. She was bored with the idea of dating college boys and wished in a pissy way that time would accelerate and propel her into areas where she could meet men who...

Changed things. Who made things. That did things that made her feel worthy of herself. She knew she would live a lonely life if she couldn't find someone who put the pump in her bloodflow. Someone who would make her feel alive instead of living.

Evelyn wondered when that day would come, when the gravity of her world would collide with someone with a yearning for...spontaneity that matched her own.

Her thoughts rushed quickly within her mind as she yearned and felt her wishes swim through her conscious before she dismissed them as girlishly ridiculous. Her mind started calculating new recipes ideas for her soon to be business and she let her eyes search around her for ideas.

Which turned her quick eyes to those around her. There were some security guards about her and some businessmen, whom were either chatting on cell phones or reading papers while juggling coffee and briefcases. The security guard to her left caught her attention.

He was tall.

He quite literally would tower over her if he chose to lean in closer. His uniform was gray, and it crossed her mind he was probably headed to the bank. His jacket sleeve read "Gotham City Bank" and immediately verified what she assumed.

She cocked her head a bit and took more of him in. She had an appreciation for men who towered over her. Of course, with her size, it wasn't very rare.

His hair was either short or pulled underneath his hat. From what she could see of the slight tendrils that escaped, they were dirty blonde. His complexion was somewhat fair, slightly weathered, but it was the scar on the side of his face that drew her attention. It jaggedly continued the right side of his face from what she could see. The scar was horrendous and she instantly wondered where he got it.

She thought of her own scar.

His face was still decidedly handsome. His eyes were dark, so dark, from where she stood she couldn't tell what color they were. Her eyes travelled down his lithe frame and then back up again to see that he had turned towards her.

It looked as though his shoulders were broad from her side profile of him and the uniform fit him well. His body was lean and she wished his uniform was short sleeved, for she was sure she could then verify the muscle definition in his arms.

But when her eyes met his her eyebrow immediately piqued in interest. He was staring directly into her eyes. People didn't usually look back at her when she stared them down. The intensity of her gaze wasn't so severe to be rude, but just firm enough to establish curiosity.

Nonetheless. People generally looked away.

He didn't. His face was a cool mask of thoughts processing as she eyed him.

The matching scar on the other side of his face caused her to break eye contact first. The matching scar was just as severe as its twin.

He watched her purse her lips slightly in consideration, then her facial features softened slightly and she presented him with a small shy grin.

Interesting. And it was for the both of them.

More so for him though she didn't quite know it.

She guessed he wasn't used to girls giving him appraising looks and she wondered how strong he was to be able to look in the mirror every day and go about his business, scars and -

What? Her eyes travelled down his chest, where a neon red circle started to align itself in the center of where his heart would be.

Evelyn's eyes widened considerably. Was someone trying to kill him? Why? She was going to watch him die before her eyes.

If she didn't stop standing there and move, he was going to die. If she didn't do something soon, he was going to die because of her inaction.

As the abrupt realization hit her in full force her arms reached towards him as she pivoted on her high heels.

Her purse flew from her shoulder in slow motion and travelled down her arms that were trying to push him away. She no longer saw his face. Just the deadly red circle of red that was signifying a bloody end.

The fingertips of her left hand hit connected with his upper right arm first. Slowly, so very slowly her right hand collided with his chest, covering his heart, and she felt an inhuman surge of adrenaline course through her, empowering the force of her slender arms with enough strength to move the man beside her.

She knew that if her reflexes and adrenaline had not have aided her, there would have been no way she could made his towering figure budge.

And yet, she moved him out of the line of fire. Her purse swinging towards him just as the bullet skimmed over the top of her arm in a burning arrow of fire, and collided with flesh covering her left forearm.

Then everything sped up very quickly.

White hot pain shot up her outstretched arms and she dropped her purse as she crumpled to the ground, clutching her hands together under her jaw as she winced sharply at the blood that was falling freely from her wounds. Gunfire erupted all around her and she reflexively brought up her hands to cover her ears as she ducked.

More bullets whizzed by and she panicked. Her eyes opened and seeing her bag in front of her, she snatched it and scampered out of the way. She shot between the uniformed security guard's legs and dashed into the wall behind them, before rounding the corner of the wall into an alleyway. She lurched through the garbage cans and dumpsters, running for her life.

The blood was pounding far too loudly in her ears to hear the footsteps running after her.

Pain flared in the back of her head, and then her vision blurred, and then she knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two - Say Hello

When she awoke, the first thing she noticed was the surrounding temperature. Rather chilly. And damp. The lack of wind flow hinted that she was most likely in a building and not outside.

When she opened her eyes she saw that she had been tied to a chair. It was stationary, and for a moment she was oddly thankful that it did not possess wheels. She had been sleeping with her head on her shoulder, and with a painful grimace she picked up her head and rolled it to crack out the kinks.

Blinking a few more times she looked at her arms.

They had been tied at the wrists to the arms of the wooden chair so that the bullet wounds that grazed the tops of her forearms were facing up, so as not to touch the chair. Her jacket had been removed, and with it gone, she could see that a great deal of blood had stained her arms, drying itself to her bare skin.

She was surprised that she didn't have the urge to itch it. She leaned her head forward to peer more closely at her wounds, trying to inspect them for infection.

Evelyn could barely see in the scant light in the room, and it became evident that someone else had came to the same conclusion.

"My, my. Sleeping beauty has _fin_ally awoken."

Evelyn froze for a scant second, then peered into the darkness beyond her.

The room she was in was large. Windows adorned the wall to her right in monotonous rows, casting moonlight to shine in through some of the shattered panes of glass. The floor beneath her feet was concrete, and desks and various tables were piled to her left. Further in front of her, a good fifty feet away, was a couch that leaned against a wall, next to a dejected lamp. The pathetic amount of light it casted was just enough for her to make out a figure lounging in the middle of an even more forlorn looking piece of furniture.

He slipped his arms from the top of the couch cushions and leaned forward so that his hands could cushion his jaw as he peered at her. He swiped a hand to the floor and picked up a small piece of paper and read, "Or, I suppose I should say, our sleeping Evie has finally come around."

Her eyes darted to the floor where her purse and its contents were strewn about.

The shadowy figure sprung up from the couch, and tossing her ID back to the floor, prowled closer to his prey, "Though, that _may _have been my fault." He mimicked the action of hitting a pistol to the back of someone's head and explained, "See, it was the first time I've had to hit someone with the intent of _not _killing them, I'm sure you...under_stand_."

As he closed in on her, she straightened in her chair, and leaned back as she realized her captor was wearing a purple clown suit...and face paint. Oh dear.

He strolled along closer, taking his time and when he was a few feet away he stopped. He tilted his head to the side, and brought up a hand to his chin. Considering her, he asked silkily, "Do you recognize me Evie?"

Evelyn bit her bottom lip and nodded. The way he asked hinted that it would be in her best interests if he didn't have to introduce himself.

"What is my name?"

She peered up at him and said obediently, "The Joker."

"And praytell, my dear, why did you not recognize me before? Was it the hat? Be honest with me, I know it looked terrible," he said sympathetically, as if they had been good friends.

"I, I thought you always dressed like a joker. I didn't expect that you would be without your suit."

The Joker removed his hand from his chin and sighed, "Well then, I suppose that my disguise was..." He glanced back down to her with a grin, his blackened eyes glittering.

"Effective."

He quickly turned on his heels and started pacing around her as he continued talking.

"So, dollface, I have a few questions for you," he circled her once as he spoke, and grabbed her chin as he stopped in front of her, jerking her face up to meet his own.

His voice dropped to a dangerous tone and he warned as he stared hard into her eyes, "And if, for some reason or the other, I feel as if," his tongue darted out to slide quickly over his chapped lips in a paused moment, "you are not being sincere..."

Her wide eyes were focused entirely on his, so she didn't see him pull out his knife, but she did feel it against her cheek.

"...I just might...lose...my...temper."

His gloved hand and knife left her, and he smoothed back the few tendrils of hair that had fallen out of place when he had jerked her frightened eyes to look into the shadows of his own.

He left her for a moment and moved past her. She didn't think it was necessary to follow his movements. She was still trying to sooth her heartbeat.

The telltale sound of a chair being pulled across cement filled the room, and he unceremoniously dragged it right up in front of her, then twisted it so that he straddled the decaying piece of wood, facing her with his painted face.

She grimly realized that with his legs sprawled out, he seemed to cage her into him, effectively forcing all of her attention to him. She idly wondered if he did it on purpose.

The top of the chair was low enough for him to lay his left arm along its edge, and with his right, he twirled his knife expertly in front of her.

"I'm sure, by now of course, everyone knows that I have an..._intimate _relationship with knives," he smiled and flourished his blade in front of his scars, "But, DO TELL my dear, do you like to play with sharp objects _too_?" He feigned interested curiosity perfectly.

For a moment, Evelyn was incredibly confused. Her brows furrowed in thought, before relaxing. He had taken off her coat, and most likely, while he was tying her to the chair, had come across her scar. She inwardly flinched at the idea of intruding eyes seeing such a private...flaw on her person. Evelyn usually kept her scar hidden and out of sight, and when she chose to go sleeveless, most were not observant enough to spot the part of her arm where the skin was uneven.

A flare of shame burned in her and she fought the urge to look away from him. She knew such a commanding figure as himself would not like that one bit.

She trained her eyes to remain on his mocking face and she gently shook her head, "No sir, I do not like to play with knives."

He stabbed his knife into the side of his chair in a swooping movement and roughly grabbed her left hand before twisting it so that the inner part of her arm was revealed, along with her scar, not batting an eyelash while she flinched at the throbbing pain the twisting movement made.

The action caused the chair to rub against her more severe bullet wound and she gasped in sharp pain as he flourished his fingers atop her scar, "Then what _is this_? It kind of looks like you might be more fond of knives than you think Evie."

Her past was private.

The people in it were all dead now, and Evelyn wanted to let sleeping dogs lie. That part of her life was over, and the memories of it were sealed away tight. Evelyn evened her breath and she said very gently, "I wouldn't want to bore you with long stories."

He backhanded her immediately.

"Evie, Evie, Evie," he laughed darkly and gruffly explained, "If I didn't want to hear the answer, I wouldn't have bothered to ASK."

Evelyn couldn't stop her eye from twitching in anger, but the fear that it surged through her made the words fall easily from her mouth. Almost as easily as a sinner spilling his guts to a priest. But, Evelyn knew that the dark figure in front of her, did not care to absolve her of her transgressions.

And as a matter of fact, if she didn't tell it to him in a timely manner, he might get a little impatient.

"I did it when I was sixteen. My mother got into drugs, I had no father, but through her, I was graced with many _father figures_. All she was to them was a roll in the hay, and someone to send to work so that they could get her paycheck. It was used to support their drinking, or drugs, or whatever. But, for her, she was my mother. I...loved her. There was once a time when she wasn't always so...pitiful. One day I grabbed a razor, and in my last, vain, attempt to try and instill in her how much of my love she had... I told her that for every time she would do drugs, I would make sure that my pain was as physical as it should feel. To try and make her see how bad it hurt me to see her...waste herself into what I knew she would eventually become.

"...I never had experience with razors, so, I just, I just, tried to make a cut real quick, and, well... Now I know how sharp razors really are. She cared enough to get me to someone who could stitch me up before I died of bloodloss, but we didn't quite have the money to go to a hospital, but she knew a lady who had once been a nurse for a few years. She did a piss poor job of stitching up my arm, she was elderly and had a pretty shaky hand, hence why the stitches are uneven and crooked, but, she did it nonetheless.

My mother didn't stop doing the drugs. And after that, I realized she was no longer worth the concern. So, I didn't add any more reminders to my arm."

Evelyn's gaze had drifted to her scar, and she took a good look at it. It was odd hearing someone ask about it. Usually, if someone did happen to notice, they thought she had simply tried to take her life, and looked away in disgust and flustered embarassment.

She understood. It didn't look pretty. Since it had happened so long ago, the scar tissue was no longer the angry color it once was. The faded pink flesh was fragile and delicate. Tiny thin creases covered the slightly puffy pink tissue, and the twenty-six dots that haphazardly outlined the old wound were reminders of the fishing wire that had been pulled through her bloodstained arm, one stitch at a time.

It had happened four years ago, and to the day, she still shuddered when she looked at bare razor blades. Knives didn't make her shudder, but if she saw a razor lying about, she disposed of it quickly.

The Joker apraised her in a new light. He had figured it was a suicide attempt, but since the wound was two inches below her elbow, between it and her wrist, and _not _two inches below her wrist, he had simply wanted to know why she had cut her arm in such an...unorthodox place.

He spoke quietly now, not wanting to frighten her, for fear that it would break her focus from her trip down memory lane. "Did you know it would scar," he picked up his knife again and mocked the action she had made when she had cut herself, making it look like he was playing a violin with much enthusiasm, "Or did you mean to graze it as light as a kitty cat scratch?" He asked, making the knife stop it's rampart swaying to make an imaginary nick in his arm.

Her somber eyes had flown from her scar to his mimicking action, and now they looked quietly back into his dark orbs.

"I wasn't worried about what kind of scar it would leave, I wanted it deep enough to bleed considerably, I just, didn't meant for it to almost take my life."

He sneered loudly at her and snorted as he gestured to her outfit, "Forgive me, but you look like the type who cares about their _appearance_."

"I do believe if I cared so much about looks, I wouldn't have been _looking _at _you_," she retorted, with a hint of anger.

The Joker raised his eyebrow reflexively, before bursting into laughter.

Oh shit. She hadn't meant to say that. The words had just flown right out of her mouth before she could stop them. But her miffed pride had been wounded, and her indignation had furiously risen to the slanderous attack. She was not shallow. A little vain, yeah, what girl wasn't a little vain? But to be so shallow as to worry about how she might look, in comparison to her mother's well being? No.

But, in retrospect, her reply was not the wisest choice of words.

That was a bit of an understatement. She swallowed thickly at the bile of worry that had risen in the back of her throat and her imagination worked wonders at what he was most likely going to do to her for speaking out of turn. If she wanted to keep herself alive, pissing off her captor might not be such a good idea.

However, once he had calmed himself down, he smiled arrogantly and replied, "There is _that_." The end of his statement was a mild shout as he referenced their first encounter.

He leaned back a tad, in utter amusement filled delight, and thought that the blush that stained her cheeks was quite becoming. He had thought she was checking him out, but he wasn't sure if she had been curious, or..._inviting_. Not many girls were want to look him over twice. If once at all...

Which drew him to the real questions. Two in particular. The ones he really, _really_, wanted to know.

"So, Evie, tell me, was it my dashing good looks," he swept his haphazardly dyed green curls to the side, "That made you come rushing to my aid?"

She replied quickly, not wanting another smack.

"No."

But at his dark look, which promised obscene amounts of pain and Chelsea smiles, she explained hurriedly.

"I admit, I did think the scars made you more dashing and masculine, but, I wasn't thinking about your face or other fine attributes when I made to push you away."

"Well!?" he whined, impatient and growled out in a thunderous voice, "WHAT WAS IT?!"

His shout startled her, and in her paused silence, he agitatedly jumped up from the chair, and with a serious of violently twitchy movements, made it fly across the room, shattering it into firewood. He turned back to her when he had satisfactorily watched the chair meet its destructive end and brought his knife towards her, moving it to her face to make some encouraging marks when she abruptly replied.

"If I hadn't of moved, I would have been useless!"

He stopped. And her startled breathing was all that could be heard.

Useless.

He liked that. Oh yes he did. He liked it a lot. It meant she wasn't full of some kind of...Batman bullshit ideology and all that self-righteous shit. It meant...

That she had acted on the idea of simply DOING. Oh. It almost brought a smile to his face.

"And why, would you have felt...useless?" he crooned encouragingly.

"Because... if I hadn't done something, I would be nothing. There would be nothing about me that would separate me from...some random dimwit. I don't want to be like the millions of other people in this city who go about their whole damn lives without making some kind of IMPACT."

The Joker's tensed shoulders relaxed from the crouch he had been in when he had almost lunged at her with his knife. He brought a thoughtful finger to tap against his battered lips as he considered what she said. "We're not so different, you and I. It's just that the impacts YOU would do probably wouldn't involve" he used his left hand to mimic an explosion, "Explosives."

"God I _love _explosions," he confessed before looking down to consider her again.

Speaking of mayhem.

"And would you have still moved to," he squealed out the next bit sarcastically imitating a damsel in distress, obviously still not pleased about the whole ordeal, "_save me_, if you had known you were about to save the life of 'The Clown Prince of Crime'?"

"Well," Evelyn pursed her lips in thought, "I don't think I would have been in your presence for a prolonged period of time once I recognized you. ...As soon as I saw the purple coat I probably would have quietly and quickly turned and went the opposite direction. With all due respect, I don't think I would have ogled you long enough to notice a laser light on you. My wish for survival is pretty strong, and, _I am _well aware _of how much you like explosives_. I don't even own a television or take time to watch the news and I know that much."

He grinned and spread his arms as if welcoming her to a show, "My reputation does _pro_ceed me!"

He suddenly frowned in thought and raised his right hand, still holding his knife, into the air, shaking an upturned finger, "I do believe I lost my temper earlier."

"My most devout, apologies." he said, a hand over his heart.

He made a rewinding motion with his finger and said pleasantly, "Why don't we _delve _into what you said earlier."

He laughed softly and promised, "Flattery will get you _everywhere_. ...Unless," he amended, his tongue flicking over his lips again in what she had come to realize as a warning of his agitation, "You're lying. Then I just," he motioned the knife over her mouth, "Nip that right in the bud."

"Understand?" he asked, smiling all the while, reminding her that she was still alive because he still wished it.

"Yes sir."

He patted her head as he swooped by her, giving her a "good girl" and disappeared behind her again in a flash of purple coat tails.

By the sound of wood scraping across cement, he was getting another chair.

He brought the chair closer than he had been earlier, and set it in front of her properly. He jerked himself into it quickly and threaded his fingers in his lap, knife no longer in hand. His legs stretched out again to keep her attention on him, and his coat flared open enough so that the tailored shirt and vest beneath it outlined the expanse of his chest and the hint of muscle definition beneath the layers of clothing.

"So tell me," he rose an eyebrow and said with all due seriousness, "What "_other fine attributes" _do I have?" He made sure to make the quotation marks with his gloved fingers.

Evelyn's eyes trailed down his broad shoulders, the length of his body, and where his shirt tucked into the slim of his waist, where his pants hung low against his hips and blushed again, thinking of what she had thought on her first good look at him, and the Joker burst into laughter once more at seeing her reaction.

Evelyn wondered if this was an appropriate conversation to be having with a criminal mastermind, and mentally shrugged. He wanted her to tell him the truth...and she had no wish to have her tongue cut out, or a smile carved on her face...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three - Wait For An Answer

Evelyn smoothly slid her tongue over her bottom lip and bit it as she tried to find the proper way to project her girlish observations to another person. She wasn't one to say what was always on her mind, and her thought processes were quick appraisals that were usually one worded.

Her hazel eyes appraised him now once more, mindful of his intense ebony eyes upon her, and she decided to start off with what drew her to him in the first place.

"You're tall."

He rolled his head to the side and replied, "Doll, for you, I don't think that's very hard to come by." He used his hand to approximate her height from his sitting position, "You're pretty, well, _doll-sized_."

"Hmph, nevertheless," Evelyn said, slightly miffed, "When you were standing right next to me, you just looked, well, rather dominant."

"Er, _yeah_," he replied, sarcastically, amused when he saw he had flustered her a tad.

He watched as her fingers flared out, accentuating her next statement, "And you have really nice shoulders."

"Into that _alpha male _bit are we?" he asked, chuckling when he saw her fidget a bit, "No, no. _Don't stop_. By all means, continue." He finished with a flourish of his hand, and by the way his voice dropped a few octaves, he was giving her his undivided attention.

"It helped that the security guard outfit fit you rather well too."

He raised his eyebrow and congratulated her, "Well, well, Evie. You must have _really _been looking if you noticed that small detail." The security guard uniform had almost been identical to the ones used by the GPD.

Evelyn slightly shrugged in her binds, "I did get an eyeful. And...your eyes, they were so intense."

He allowed her to continue, knowing that she obediently would.

"Usually," Evelyn said slowly, making sure her eyes were trained directly into his, "When I look at people, they look away. I don't mean it in a way to put people off, but, when I'm curious, I look. Most people look away at such an, intimate and intense action, or they get a bit huffy." She said as she rolled her eyes.

"But, you..." she mused, "You just looked right back. Like you were taking me on... It was kind of..."

She bit her lip again, trying to find a word to explain how she had felt when his eyes had bore directly into hers.

Erotic. Carnal. Intimate. Dominating.

His slow spreading smile stated that she didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Kind of, _what_, Evie?"

But he wanted her to anyway.

Yet, Evelyn didn't want him to misinterpret her honesty as throwing herself at him. She consented that he was indeed attractive... However... She wasn't one to jump into bed with strangers. Especially ones that might make the experience...less than pleasant. To say 'erotic' would have been out of the question.

"It was kind of hot."

He mouthed the word and looked off, as if recalling the moment. He considered her reply, and then turned back to her, "Now, what were you going to say, before you decided to tone it down to Rated _G_?"

Crap. He caught that.

"You see, Evie, I'm a rated M for mature audience," his tongue slipped out dangerously again, "So don't be afraid to use adult words. I'm older than you are, and I think I can handle it." He grimaced widely at her mistake and patted her hand condenscendingly. Evelyn caught the message loud and clear. Change of plans.

"Erotic. It was definately erotic," she rushed to assure him, her voice wavering just ever so slightly.

The Joker leaned back to lounge in his chair again and watched her carefully.

She was doing very well. She had caught on to his slight mannerisms and was reading his mood almost perfectly. Something that his dumbass 'henchmen' should have caught onto by now, the little bastards. His little Evie was no "dimwit" as she had mentioned before. He knew that she was trying hard to not layer her attraction to him on _too thick_. It was apparent that she had no qualms about truthfully telling him her..._appraises _to his _person_... But also, that she was in no hurry to hump his leg either.

By the look of her though, he wouldn't of minded it. She was a pretty little thing with her tiny chinadoll-esque eyes and petite and plump mouth. Her long waves of chocolate hair spilled out around her and down to the wee of her back... Stretching out down her back towards that sinfully delicious ass. It was probably his favorite part about her. He could just, _sink _his teeth into that. And her legs were lovely. They held traces of muscle definition, and he suspected that she probably jogged or something to keep them in such good shape. Her hips were wide, making her look curvy, but she wasn't exactly top heavy. Those gems were just enough to be a handful. He knew, because he had...'accidentally' checked. Her waist was trim and smooth, but not muscular. She was womanly in all the right places.

And judging from the bloodstains on her arms, just as delicate.

But a certain item he had found in her pocket had been rather...unexpected.

When he was relieving her of her jacket, he was surprised to find a black ASP in a pocket she had sewn into her coat. The pocket had been made _specifically _for it. He had giggled when he found it, snapping out his arm to hear the metal shift into place as the tiny metal pole extended into a lethal beat down weapon. Unfortunately for one of his henchmen, he had been standing in the way.

Whoops.

Not that he really cared.

He looked down again at her old scar. He had even taken off a glove so that his thumb could graze over that highly sensitive, and incredibly delicate little piece of flesh when he had tied her to the chair. It told a story. And he had wanted to know it. Now that he did...

His dark eyes roved over her fresh wounds. For all the blood, they sure as hell weren't anything serious. They wouldn't even need stitches, she was just a bleeder. A band-aid would make those all better. Though she had gotten lucky. Her right arm had just been nicked and burned as the bullet had whizzed by, and her left had a small chunk of flesh missing, but, it was a SMALL chunk of flesh. And he would have been a quite put out if she had started to bitch about it.

Nevertheless...

...Those scars were a testament to the fact that she had saved his happy ass.

Somewhere deep within him, way down in there, he knew he owed her one. Even though he was loathe to admit it.

What was he going to do with her? She was...too much fun to just flat out kill.

Useless... His demented mind drifted back to that word. Maybe she did have some uses...

"Erotic, eh? I think I agree, my little _Evie_. As a matter of fact, I think you've just...inspired me to a _new _way of thinking," he laughed darkly.

The Joker watched as her eyes widened now in real fear. Her fists clenched harshly as well as her jaw, and he knew he had struck a nerve.

"Aww," he crooned mockingly, "Why so shy?"

He had to strain to hear her as she whispered quietly. He knew that by whispering, she was hoping to not upset him.

"I'm not that kind of girl," Evelyn mourned, not liking where the conversation was going, or her chances of surviving it.

It was if a spell had broken. And as it was swept away, reality came swiftly upon her. Her neck was still sore, her arms still stung, the blood that was drying against her bare skin brought greater attention to where her flesh had been freshly torn and burned by gunfire. And with her old scar bare for all to see... She felt like a macabre sight, but took a very slight comfort in the fact that he had not tied her to the chair tight enough to cause pain.

But the Joker didn't seem to mind her downward spiraling thoughts.

"Ohh?" the Joker straightened a tad in his chair and leaned forward, inviting her to answer his question, daring her, "And what kind of girl _are you, _dollface?"

"I have other uses than just sex, if that's what you mean," she bit out. She didn't care if he gave her another smack. Evelyn refused to die without her dignity and pride. It was all that she had left. All that had gotten her through a lonely part of her life.

And the Joker saw that and laughed. She was no coward. Oh no. She was afraid, yes, as she should be. But her pride was not so pitiful that she was going to start begging and pleading for him to spare her, blabbering and crying like some silly female wasn't her style.

He leaned forward now in real interest and grabbed her chair, pulling her so close that their legs rested against each other. He gave her credit when she didn't flinch.

"A bargain?" he cooed delightedly and smiled, "Are you proposing that we make an..._arrangement_?"

When she said nothing he prodded her, "No, no, no. Tell me. Tell me what other uses you have. I'm just _dying _to find out."

Evelyn bit her lip a bit harder than necessary as her mind tried to come up with some decent answers quickly. She was sure the 'dying' part would be on her end and not his.

His genial gaze was starting to harden as she tore through her thoughts for something to bargain with.

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Idea.

Evelyn straightened slightly in her chair, and her toes squirmed, an extension of how she was beginning to feel under his demanding presence.

Before the Joker could move to retrieve his knife out of his pocket again, she spoke up before he started to shout.

"If you let me loose, I'll show you," she promised coyly. She didn't think she wanted to say it aloud. That would have been a little too cheesy for her taste, and she had a knacking feeling that he would comply more readily if she treated this like a game.

And she didn't want to lose.

He suddenly clapped his hands together in delight and rumbled deeply, "Oh goody, goody, _goody_."

She watched as he fished in his pockets for his knife, and brought it up to her wrists with a cheshire cat grin, obviously very pleased with her bold response. He cut the underside of the wood chair to release her from her bonds and stared at her expectantly, waiting.

He liked surprises, and he didn't get them very often. The good kind, at least.

He allowed her to rub her wrists in an effort to smooth out her bloodflow to her fingers. He wanted her to be perfectly capable of doing...whatever she was planning on doing.

She rolled her head once with a resounding crack, and then pulled herself even closer to him.

He almost bounced in his chair in sheer glee.

"May I see your hand please?"

He tossed his knife into his left hand and presented his hand to her as if he was asking her to dance.

He was.

His cheeks almost hurt at how impatiently he had been clenching them. And when her hesitant fingers enclosed around his purple gloved hand, he released his grin like a madman. He didn't even know why he was getting so excited! His left hand squeezed the handle of his knife to a point where he could hear his joints popping out of place.

Evelyn was doing her best to concentrate. It had been a long time since she had learned the techniques that had been informally taught to her. And the man before her demanded a perfect performance.

She swallowed the worry in the back of her throat and asked him, "Can I have permission to take off your glove?"

He nodded violently, curiosity flaring to previously unknown levels of excitement. Her hands were so small in comparison to his. So delicate and feminine, perfect and smooth, gently moving over his with a sure twist of movements to relieve him of the fabric that encased his scarred and calloused hands.

It was intoxicating. She was the center of his world now. He could feel her, smell her, hear every intake of breath she made. It thrilled him to see her take the bottom of her lip between her teeth in stern concentration. He was so close, _he _could take the bottom of her pouty lip into his teeth if he so chose.

And then she discarded his glove on her lap, and smoothed her hands over his.

Evelyn admired, "You have lovely hands." And he could feel her tapered nails graze delicately against his rough skin. He was slightly surprised when her fingers tightened against his hand and flexed in calculated movements. At first, his eyebrows drew together in perplexity. And then he was baffled.

She was...massaging his hands.

He hadn't been expecting that.

But when her thumb pressed into a certain fleshy part of his palm, he was pacified into shocked silence.

It was such a different and unique sensation to him. He was quite confused, and was going to give her a smack to knock some sense into her, when he decided... What the hell? Why not? He now wanted to see where she was going to go with this.

Her fingertips roved over what he assumed were pressure points, and she slowly turned his tense and anxious hand into putty for the silent moments that seemed to stretch as he remained quiet in her hands.

It slowly dawned on the scarred man that he had never been touched like this before. That this was...a new and not totally unpleasant experience that his little Evie was taking him into.

"If I had some oil," Evelyn lamented as she moved down to his wrist, "You would like this much more."

If he had on less clothes, and she had more access to his body, he would have liked it much more.

"And if we had a better place to make you a tad bit more comfortable, I could ease out all of those knots I'm sure you have tensed away in your muscles."

He mused at how she touched him, and how she could touch him if he allowed. He would be lying if he said it didn't feel... What was that word she had used?

Hot.

The Joker resisted a chuckle, pleased as her questing fingertips traced lightly up to his inner elbow and then back down again.

No, no woman had ever touched him like this. So..intimately. No woman had ever been so at _ease _at touching him. How was she _doing _it? Her resolve must be...admirable. He was scary as all Hell, and he knew it. He _used _it. Fear was exhilarating and fun and made his dark little heart swell to the closest thing to happiness he knew.

Albeit sex was pretty damn skippy too. And explosions. There was something else that he liked quite a bit too... He couldn't think of it right now though, her fingertips tickled the inner of his arm for a moment and he lost his train of thought...

"I make a mean steak too."

His interest piqued at the idea of food. His head wobbled up out of his reverie with an "Oh?"

THAT was what he had been thinking of. How did she _do that_? The little vixen.

"Rare of course. I'm an excellent cook, but I prefer baking. I'm going into the bakery business to open up my own shop. I make the best vanilla brownies topped with macadamian nuts and filled with raspberry centers."

What the hell? He hadn't even heard of those.

The raging curiosity from before was rekindled.

"I know that you probably are all tuckered out on the fast food bit, and I'm going to go on a limb here and say that I don't think any of your henchmen is good in the kitchen."

Evelyn knew she had his attention. It was...kind of too simple. Then again, what grown man didn't have a penchant for good food and homecooked meals?

"I'm also pretty decent with a needle and thread. My mother taught that to me before she took a few trips down druggie lane," Evelyn explained.

The Joker appreciated her dry humor. Not very many people used any kind of humor around him, except the Batman... but his always had... _punch _lines. And he always found them to be quite bruising.

She felt the Joker chuckle at her remark before she heard it, and took encouragement from it, almost breathing out a sigh of relief.

"If your suit gets all shot up, or a few buttons get cut off, I can make your suit look as good as new."

The Joker's eyes started to stare strangely at the woman before him. She was getting awfully _chummy _with him.

"And if _you _get torn up, I learned how to stitch up people too," Evelyn mentioned as she set down his hand on his thigh, and held out her hands for his other hand.

Wondering how far she would go, he nonchallantly stabbed his knife in his chair with a slow swooping movement and offered her his other hand, disbelief slightly turning his marred and painted features into something almost comical.

Once she pulled off his other glove, she continued her ministrations, pursing her lips as she worked at some kinks in the muscles of his fingers, "As I watched my scar start to heal terribly, I wanted to know how to do it right. In case of course, anything else ever happened to me. That way I could fix it myself."

The Joker's jaw dropped a miniscule amount in slight disbelief at what he was hearing... Seriously, this slip of a girl wasn't-

"I'm certain that you are a complete and total badass, but there might be some post police encounters where you can't reach your own wounds."

The Joker cleared his throat, and shook his head ever so slightly from side to side in complete disbelief, "Are you offering to aid and abet, ME, THE _JOKER_, by acting as my own little personal _Susie_ Homemaker??"

Evelyn winced at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded, and for a moment, felt completely defeated. Her fingertips paused in their exploits, and her thoughts turned tumultous as she simply could not think of anything else to bargain with. Her pride would be damned before she offered herself up as some sleazy cheap fuck.

The Joker's voice crooned out again, his sarcasm dripping as he asked the question again, his smile as mocking as his voice, "Isn't that what you're _offering _me, Evie? Yesss?" He nodded his head up and down on the 'yes', making her feel like a complete and utter fool.

When he could no longer hold it in anymore, he started laughing.

Hard.

So hard in fact, that he jerked her to participate in his fit with his hand still in hers. Tears sprung into his vision and he threw his head back, thoroughly enjoying the slight discomfort in his sides from the hilarity of the situation.

Oh, the complete _gall _this woman had.

Eventually he wiped the tears from his eyes with a finger from the hand she wasn't holding and wheezed himself back into his regular breathing.

With the tears of joy gone from his dark orbs, he could see the tears of sorrow filling hers.

Evelyn felt numb. She did not want to die. She wasn't going to scream or beg, but that didn't stop the feeling of hopelessness that washed through her. She almost didn't care anymore what it took. If she just had a few seconds to recompose herself, she would simply ask him what she could do to bargain him into letting her live. Her continued existence was a number one priority now. And the Joker held all the cards.

The Joker felt her hands curl desperately and very gently around his hand.

She was just. So. Much. Fun.

"Oh, Evie, Evie, _Evie_," he shushed her and patted his hand reassuringly over hers before he gracelessly and very awkwardly withdrew a handkerchief from his coat to dab at her tears.

"My pretty little Evie," he said and easily pulled her compliant figure out of her chair and into his lap. He smoothed her hair once more and rocked her against him while he chuckled darkly at all the little misadventures she would soon accompany him on.

He was going to take her down the rabbit hole-

-If only to see how long she lasted before royally pissing him the hell off.

"I'm not going to _kill _you," he said as he pulled her legs over his left arm and the arm of the chair, letting his hand hold the side of her thigh to keep her close to him.

With his right he let his fingers weave through the side of her hair so that he could _gently _pull her head away far enough so that he could whisper against the delicate flesh of her ear...

"I'm going to _keep _you."

A/N: THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO LEFT ME REVIEWS! I hope you like this new chapter. I'm completely worn out though, and I have to go to work in a few hours. This chapter was the hardest one so far --' So please don't be too upset with me for how I portrayed the Joker. Let me know what you guys think, okay? It helps me to make the story all around BETTER. Please and thank-you's!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four - Crazy On You

Evelyn had simply reached her breaking point. The emotional and psychological roller coaster ride the Joker had strapped her into for her life had drained her completely. She felt spent. The fight left her system and she did not resist him as he effortlessly pulled her petite form against him.

"I'm not going to _kill _you."

What was that? Evelyn almost didn't hear what he had said. She thought she had imagined it, dismissing it as too good to be true. Maybe the blood loss was finally starting to take its toll...

"I'm going to _keep _you."

His warm breath enveloped the sensitive flesh of her ear as he whispered it to her like a lover. She definately heard _that_.

She shuddered involuntarily against him. His soft voice and dark words held dangerous promise.

Promise that left her relieved, frightened, and exuberant at how he had decided to spare her life.

...But then there was that sinister, _underlying _promise that he had stated very blatantly into his words. The kind of promise that when he had purred into her ear, had turned her on more effectively than any past consort.

It felt, _alarmingly _addicting to give him such complete control of her. It almost felt _right _to just let him press her against him, as if they weren't near complete strangers. Maybe this whole 'alpha male' theory of his wasn't completely unfounded.

Evelyn usually _abhorred _being touched. When previous men in her life had tried to cuddle her against them, she had, quite honestly, pushed them away with a spark of annoyance.

She always felt the urge to break free and pull away. Escape.

And now, within the arms of a madman, she did not.

That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Evie," he purred out her name, nuzzling her hair as he did so, "I under_stand_ that your pride will not allow you to, oh, how should I put this _delicate-ly_..."

He didn't.

"Fuck me like a sex starved whore who's _about-to-be-wed_, but, allow me to make this, _quite_, clear."

He paused, for a moment and then reiterated, "_Crystal_ clear."

The hand he had used to pull her away now used her hair as a means of turning her eyes directly into his, and he wasn't exactly nice about it.

"Sooner, or later, most likely because of this," he used his other hand to gently move her provocatively against him, "_Attraction _between us, that you have developed _quite _the _knack _for pointing out might I add..."

He smiled at her like a predator and growled, "...You will be _mine _in ev-ve-ry sense of the word."

Oh my. Attraction indeed. Evelyn didn't even need a mirror to see the blush that was staining her cheeks, she could feel the rush of blood just fine thank-you very much.

The Joker watched her flush _furiously _at his underlying implications and mimicked socking her one in the kisser, "But since you've been QUITE the little trooper so far..."

"...I've decided to reward your _stellar _behavior by not throwing you on the floor right now and having my wicked way with you."

Evelyn's eyes darted around her quickly, taking in how she was so snugly in his lap, and in how he was practically holding her against him. Her head lay on his chest, and her left arm was draped across her lap, while her right hand was spread open, palm lightly holding his side. Her black high heels and legs draped over his arm, and if his arm hadn't of been underneath her legs, the wood on the arm of the chair would have bruised them.

She unconsciously snuggled closer and breathed a sigh of relief. She had won this little game.

At least until he wanted to play again.

He laughed lightly at how she unconsciously moved closer to him and looked down at his new blood splattered prize, taking in some more of her...lovely attributes. With Evie settled so compliantly in his lap, he had a pretty decent view down the front of her shirt.

He licked his lips.

"Though, I _suppose _I could be easily dissuaded if you're feeling up to a night of tricks?" He whispered excitedly, "Should I go fetch all the contents in my toybox and rendevoux with you back here? They'll keep us entertained for _hours_."

Her hazel eyes stared deadpan into his, and was certain to wipe that kid on Christmas' Day's look off of his face.

"I see you're a dreamer," Evelyn stated, patting her hand against his chest as she effectively shut him down with a few compensating pats, "But seriously, with all due respect, I don't think I can last a few more minutes."

"Oh, yeah," the Joker recounted the state of her health and didn't resist the unmistakable pout spreading across his painted visage as he prodded her empty stomach with a slim finger, "I suppose my little Evie's all tuckered out, eh?"

Yes, Evelyn was quite 'tuckered out.' She had been put through the most stressful situation in her entire life, was still recovering from blood loss, her body had been deprived food since lunch, and for some inexplicable reason the Joker's lap was getting more warm and cozy by the minute.

"Are you going to fall asleep _on_ _me, _Evie?"

Oh how she was about to. She made a little noise in the back of her throat at being chided, and buried her face into his chest. She didn't even care anymore where she slept, just as long as she could sink into utter oblivion and not have to worry about her life being in precarious turmoil.

He suddenly got an idea.

"You know," he said, rubbing circles on her back before her gruffly continued, his baritone voice confiding in her, "I do have a bedroom. Call me risque, but it does have a _bed_." He wondered how far he could push her...

"If you molest me in my sleep," she yawned, "I won't make you breakfast."

He chuckled darkly and said quite happily, "Then I can just eat _you _instead." He thrummed his fingers against her, playfully, and then stood up, taking her with him.

Evelyn felt the shift in gravitational pull and her right hand fisted in his jacket, her eyes opening wide, dazed by the sudden movement.

He shushed her gasp of alarm and made his way out of the room, "No need to fret, I don't plan on _molesting_ you..." He cleared his throat and added on with an after-thought, "Tonight at least."

To_morrow_ held promise though. Tonight, the Joker decided, he needed Evie coherent for things she needed to hear and understand.

He rushed them down a few flights of stairs and Evelyn, unaware of what she was doing, never relenquished her hold on him. She dozed for a moment, and opened her eyes to find that she was being set on a...toilet?

The Joker laughed at her startled expression and clasped her hands in his, "Don't worry Evie! I won't let you fall in!"

Evelyn blinked a few times and heard water running before her vision swam into a clear picture.

She was in a rather grungy bathroom, and the Joker was slipping a dark green towel under the running water facet. He rung it out-

-Then promptly smacked her in the face with it.

"Pay attention."

Evelyn felt her eye twitch, and now, awake, she peeled the wet cloth from her face and did her best to not glare daggers at him. He was much bigger and stronger than she, and ten times more deadly.

He promptly ignored her ambivalent expression and continued.

"I have a few bits of advice to impart on you before bedtime, seeing as how I have some..._morning activities_ to attend to."

Ascertaining that it would be in her best interest to use this time wisely, she moved to start wiping the dried blood from her arms as she listened to his oddly lilting voice.

The Joker leaned against the broken door frame and crossed his arms, the playfulness leaving him instantly, "You should understand that just because I have decided to keep you..." He raised a speculative eyebrow, "It doesn't mean that I'm going to do _everything _for you."

Evelyn continued her cleaning, and without batting an eyelash asked, "What do you want me to do?"

The Joker applauded her, "_That's _my girl." He crossed his arms again and smoothly warned her, "Tie up any...loose ends. The last time you were seen, was with yours truly. And I wouldn't want to waste any of my _time _on people who may come sniffing around to find you."

He suddenly smiled and his eyes turned away in thought, "My, my. What an _interesting _day you will have if the news discovers the identity of the woman who saved 'The Joker'." He turned his gaze back to her and sweetly said, "The citizens of Gotham are just going to _love _you. Just be sure to not get yourself killed. I might just throw a temper tantrum if someone destroys my new favorite toy before I get to break it in."

Deciding to play along, she swiped her hand in his general direction, "Oh, stop flattering me. You'll make me blush again."

With her words in mind, he grinned and decided that he didn't need to tell her of their sleeping arrangements just yet, and rummaged around in drawer for some bandages.

Evelyn had finished wiping the blood away, and gently cleaned her wounds to the best of her ability.

The Joker found what he was looking for and brought her the gauze and self-stick roll of bandages. He dropped them on her lap and stole her towel.

She started to apply the gauze when she noticed that he was looking into the mirror. Her eyes stayed on him, wondering what he was going to do, when she realized that he was planning on using her _bloody _damp towel to wipe the make-up off of his _face_. Her jaw dropped in disgust and she was off of the toilet like lightening, and snatched away the towel for the contaminated thing it was.

The Joker threw up his hands in surrender, surprisingly stating, "I didn't know you felt that strongly for it," while leaning his head between his empty hands to stare at her curiously.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she asked rhetorically before brushing him aside to rinse out the towel in the sink. "That's hella nasty!!"

He'd never heard that one before. And watched incredulously as she rinsed out the towel in the sink until the water that ran through it came out clear. When she finished, she handed it back to him with a sigh, and he took it from her with a look of surprise.

"What's this? I was so sure you were going to," he made a two finger scurrying motion out the bathroom door with his hands and said, "Make a trip to the dry cleaners?"

She said nothing and turned around to pick up her bandages on the floor, noticing for the first time that his purple leather gloves had fallen on the matching dingy yellow tile floor as well. She must have kept them in her lap the whole time. Evelyn bent over to snatch them up from floor before continuing to bandage her arms.

The Joker's eyebrows lifted when he saw her bend over and his mouth formed a perfect O as he admired the view of a decent set of legs leading to her perfect skirt clad ass. His bare hands, towel included, outlined the vision before she went back to her business. The Joker, _irrationally _guilty, turned to the mirror before she could notice, and buried his face in the towel.

He was simply no good when it came to _pretending _to be innocent.

Evelyn applied the final bandage and stood up, stopping in her tracks to see the Joker without his mask. Her eyes roved carefully over his features as he stopped looking in the mirror to look at her. She kept her face smoothly blank, and eyed him more thoroughly than she did before. His eyes still held that same intensity from before, but now she noticed that he had some slight baggage beneath his eyes. Nothing too serious, but present nevertheless.

But she did look away so that her eyes could take in the smooth expanse of his forehead now that he wasn't avidly smiling or frowning. There were a slight wrinkle between his brow, and a few laugh lines at the corner of his eyes...

She pegged him to be in his early thirties.

If it weren't for his scars that nearly split his face in half, he would have been quite the looker. But if it hadn't been for those scars, she never would have taken such a keen interest in him. She liked them. She liked how completely dangerous they made him look. Scrutinizing him now, she could tell that from the severity of the scars, that nothing as sharp as a razor had given him his forever grin. No... The knife had been _ripped _through at an angle, and it must have been agonizing.

She would bet her life that the making of those scars had been the last little violent push that had sent him flying over the edge...

You just didn't see battle scars like that everyday, and Evelyn consented that his lips wouldn't have been as appealing without the chelsea extension. They were neither full or thin, just there. Her eyes drifted up from his stern nose to his cheekbones, which stood out slightly, then along his prominent jawline that angled towards his chin. She surveyed his face once more and decided it made his face more rugged and masculine combined with the scars and the lack of a full set of eyelashes.

She liked this face much better and realized that unless he was going to sleep, she probably wasn't going to see it.

Even with the make-up though...

"Like what you see Evie?"

She smiled coyly, as she did before, her eyes catching something against his skin.

...There was still a trace of white beneath his chin, and Evelyn dropped his gloves on the dingy yellow countertop to gently pick up the towel he had thrown down opposite of the sink, and gently rubbed away the last of his mask.

He pointed down at her and said gruffly, "From down there, I probably would've spotted that." He flourished his hand to his eye level and explained, "But from up here... Well, that's what I have you for."

"I'm glad I could be of some use."

Three loud and completely unexpected beats against a door, beyond the bathroom, drew Evie to look past the Joker.

How many people were here? Or in the building for that matter? It was disconcerting to realize that there was a world full of people going about their business when in a room with the Joker. Being in his presence was like being drawn into the eye of a hurricane. Once inside, one was skeptical to _think about _the things that existed beyond it.

Sure, there were chances you could escape an eye of a hurricane alive...

And yes, there was life beyond it...

Yet nevertheless, it was a force of nature that commanded all of one's attention when confronted with it.

Evelyn had been in the eye for quite some time, luckily unscathed so far.

An instinctive part of her realized that someone was about to collide with the Joker, the manmade manifestation of a hurricane, it's equivalent in sheer, violent, ferocity.

She took a step back when his lurking form prowled dangerously out of the bathroom, reaching into his coat as he did so.

Evelyn felt her eyes go wide as she trailed his movement away from the doorway and to the right, past her line of sight. She stared at the bathroom wall, knowing that beyond the hunter green wallpaper and the plaster of the wall it was glued to lay a door.

The muscles in her body, which had previously been tired, flexed in silent anticipation, and she felt her breathing slow dramatically. Her blood started to race as adrenaline coursed through her system, and her fight or flight responses battled against her will which was well aware that she should keep, _very_, very still.

Her heightened senses picked up the tell tale sound of a gun being cocked as his footsteps reverbrated through her skull as he approached the door.

She heard the door swing open with a loud creak-

-and she stopped breathing completely, right before the gunshot sounded.

The small explosion of gunpowder made her start to breathe again, and she exhaled her pent up breath slowly, with a fluid amount of calm.

It could have been her imagination, but for a scant moment before she exhaled, she could have sworn she heard the blood splattering the walls.

She knew it didn't really matter if she had really heard it or not.

Because she knew blood was on the walls, irregardless.

The door closed with the same creak, and she heard him walk back to the bathroom.

When he came into the doorframe of the bathroom, he smiled and said with a quick wink as he pointed at her, "Lucky for you, he didn't have the chance to ruin my good mood."

Evelyn had a strong premonition that if for some reason, any blood had splattered on his face, he wouldn't have really cared.

With a practiced calm that she had developed from dealing with many fathers under the influence of whatever had induced their varying types of rages, from calm and violent to loud and emotional fits of screaming, she eased away the part of her that wanted to scream and shout, and smiled as if nothing had happened.

"That's good," his Evie replied evenly, placing her small hands on the curve of her hips, "Because if he had, he would have been on the receiving end of one of my bitch-fits. And I'm not one to brag, but my words hurt a little more than sticks and stones."

The Joker's eyes glittered with delight as he unconsciously tilted his head to delve into the complexities of her seemingly nonchallant reaction.

Part of him practically _moaned _his approval. It seemed that his Evie was more complex than he had previously thought. Oh, how many _layers _had she wrapped around herself before she had become the woman she was now? How many nightmares had she lived through to take second degree murder with such ease? Her reaction was..._strange_.

Whatever doesn't kill you...

Simply-

Makes-

You-

_Stranger_.

Part of her was just as broken as _he_. And _part _of him wanted to twist her until she could no longer hide that fact. Till her darkness became as random and chaotic as his own.

She was perfect.

He beckoned to her invitingly, using a come hither motion, and he bit back laughter as she complied _without _hesitation.

Evelyn saw no sense in denying him. Gazing at his dangerously attractive face, she knew there was nothing now that she could deny him if he chose to ask it of her. She could see from the straining smile on his scarred face that he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing...

Because he knew it too.

_--"...You will be _mine _in ev-ve-ry sense of the word."--_

A/N: Tell me how you guys liked it! And if you're nice enough to review (which I am eternally grateful for), tell me some of your favorite parts. I like hearing about those the best! Sorry this chapter came a little late! I'll write another one tomorrow if I can!

08/18/2008 Edited and corrected thanks to .Verbal.Rape.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five - Tell it Like it Is

The stakes were high for the dangerous game the Joker had pulled Evelyn so completely into. And she was aware that though her pride demanded that she not stoop so low as to open her legs if he asked, that the part of her that wished to survive, overrode the petty human pride on her priority list.

She didn't think that's what the Joker wanted right _now_, so it was much easier to move her legs towards him.

One step at a time.

All she could do was hope beyond hope, and pray that she could find a way to put it off for as long as humanely possible if that's what he wished for her.

At least, at the very least, until she could forcibly command and coax her body into not flinching if he touched her. Or trying to claw her way away from him if he tried to hold her down. His good looks were a plus, but violation was still violation.

For all of her brave words and front, they were meaningless when it boiled down to action.

Because, quite frankly, the idea of being so physically intimate with another person terrified her. It wouldn't of mattered if she had been dating a guy for months, she still positively squirmed at the idea of exposing herself bare for someone to see, and then letting them in.

It didn't help her to feel any better about the inevitable sex that he was undoubtedly going to push on her...that he could kill her if he chose, if she upset him in any way.

Hell, if he wanted to, he could kill her while they were doing it, letting her blood coat the two of them as he laughed and-

Evelyn balked at that morbid thought, feeling her innards get dangerously queasy as she shut down that train of thought with all due haste.

She wasn't bothered by innuendo, or joking about sex, or even seeing it in movies or reading about it in books.

But she was deeply bothered by the idea of doing it _herself_. At the idea of _seriously_ taking off clothes and watching someone else do the same with the _intent_ to have sex, she could feel herself gag, and her breathing hasten in trepidation.

Of course, she couldn't deny that part of her was attracted to him, that her traitorous hormones responded to him with some kind of primordial cave woman complex that was _wanted_ and _hated_ at the same time by her conscious and subconscious.

She couldn't joke so lightly anymore. She might just say something cute enough to draw his attention to her. This was The Joker, and he had no rules, did whatever he wanted, and _if_ there was a meaning to his madness, she better grasp it with a _quickness_, less she suffer the same fate as the poor fool who knocked on his door.

If his murderous attention was focused on someone else, she could deal with it if they got themselves killed. But if he happened to turn that murderous attention on her, she didn't think she could be as brave as she had been moments ago.

The man was intimidating.

She needed to reevaluate her options quickly, and plan out appropriate responses to whatever he may or may not ask her to do, if she wanted to stay alive, and out of his playfully destructive rampages.

She wasn't quite sure if God existed. But if he did, her soul was now _doomed_. She would do whatever it took to make sure she pulled through this very, deadly, game.

Her hormones helped her, in how they aided her in having no qualms about letting herself be pressed against him, with clothes on at least. How he towered over her was exciting and his ability to do whatever the fuck he wanted secretly thrilled her, pulling her desires in a way that no man had ever managed to do.

In the past she had treated her short relationships like eye candy and found that it was the best experience when it was looked at and not _tasted_. Evelyn could bring herself to appreciate the Joker's masculinity and commanding authority and dangerous looks that made her want to slide next to him...

BUT-

Past experiences taught to her by her mother had drilled into her head with resounding clarity that nothing good ever came out of sex. You lost control that way and relinquished it to someone else for something as cheap as a few minutes of base pleasure.

She didn't mind dipping her feet in and just getting a _little_ wet just _enough_ to enjoy what the water COULD offer. But there was no way she wanted to plunge in.

No, the idea of someone else shoving inside of her so _physically,_ completely, turned her off. Sex was best thought of as an _idea_ to Evelyn. A fantasy where she was brave enough to _maybe_ try it out, and people weren't the deceptive, manipulative, selfish, and self-centered creatures that they truly were.

Yes, sex to Evelyn was a daydream, a fantasy.

Not something she wanted in her reality.

"You bring a smile to my face, Evie, you really do," the Joker said as she came within reach, and he wrapped an arm around her to bring her against him, drawing her out of her dark thoughts.

But with the Joker now dictating what she would be doing...

She had a strong feeling that he would bring whole new meaning to the term 'nasty' in the phrase "doing the nasty."f

She allowed him to walk the two of them, still flush against each other, further into his meager apartment, and with her soft body pressed so firmly into the hard planes of his, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry...

He manipulated her body so well that it truly frightened her. With this monster she didn't have time to think about her fears of intimacy when he touched her, or draw herself into her mind where she could panic. He didn't give her a chance when his body was against her own. He enraptured her attention so fully when in close proximity to him, that her body only-

Reacted.

He drew her across the tiny living area of the apartment, to his room. He flicked the light switch when he ushered her in, and she saw that this room shared the same faded green wallpaper as the bathroom, only this room had rotting wooden floors, an old dejected desk, and a matching armoire.

However, true to his words, there was indeed a bed. To Evie, it looked like a cage with the iron bars that made up its headboard, stretching out from the mattress in rows of iron, which were all connected at the top by a single matching bar.

With a headboard like that, he could easily handcuff her to the bed.

Evelyn abruptly noticed that there were no windows in this room.

One way in, one way out, the flickering light overhead illuminated as if it was mocking her before the electricity flow turned steady.

From the doorway, the door opened to the right, where the wood rested against the wallpaper in the corner of the room. The bed lay pushed against the wall in the opposite of the square room; and directly before them was the armoire; and in between the pieces of furniture, also pushed against the wall, was the desk, complete with a table top of scattered papers, and a chair that looked as if it squeaked terribly.

The bed was not made, and she could see that there was a single sheet that covered the bed, and a single comforter that he obviously used to sleep with.

The Joker pushed her to the bed and moved to the desk where he stripped his jacket off and laid it over the chair. He kicked off his shoes, ripped off his socks, throwing them in any general direction, before he shrugged off his next coat, a simple brown creation, which he threw over the chair as well.

Evelyn watched his fingers pusfh the buttons out of their loops, and then his vest came off as well.

His eyes then turned to watch her as she watched him. He slipped the vest from his shoulders and dropped that on the chair as well.

With the Joker's disheveled appearance, Evelyn had thought he had just slept in his clothes. Now she wasn't quite sure what to say to get him to let her keep hers _on_.

"Hmm? Is my little Evie not tired _anymore_?" he asked, "Or is my generous nature _boring_ you?"

The Joker, not waiting for her to reply, took a menacing step towards her, "Is there someplace you need to be, Evie? Some _pressing_ matter you need to attend to?"

Evelyn watched him slip his hand into his pants pocket and mentally kicked herself for not acting sooner.

She moved forward to meet him.

His eyes glittered in the faint light of the bedroom as he saw her coming towards him and he withdrew the gun, placing it against her temple as her hands fluttered against his chest.

She started to undo his tie, "The only pressing matters I have, are making sure to do exactly as you tell me."

He laughed, and it was a frightening sound, lilting in tone as he did it, and he purred, "You dance on the _very_ end of my _patience_, Evie, be care-fullll..." He sang, and cradled the other side of her head with his free hand, so that he could press the barrel of the gun more forcefully into her head.

He growled threateningly, "_Because_ my good _graces_ towards you are subject to _change_."

She continued to obediently undo his tie, trying not to let her hands shake with the barrel of his loaded gun pressing into her, "Yes sir."

He only relented when tears sparkled in her lovely, wide, frightened, hazel eyes.

Evelyn felt the ease of pressure and pulled his tie off delicately, trying not to upset him anymore than what he already was.

The Joker backed away from her, keeping his eyes on her until he was where he had been, by the desk. He sighed loudly and beckoned her to him once again.

Evelyn could see him through her blurry tear stained eyes and came to him quickly, tie still in hand. He swept an arm around her shoulders, and he dropped the gun on the desk so that he could wipe away her tears with a mock gentleness, smearing what was left of her eyeliner with his thumb.

"Maybe I wasn't very clear-" he explained, rumbling against her in a confiding manner, "But I'm a man of my _word_."

Evelyn listened, her hands clenching his tie for courage.

"When I say '_I don't plan on molesting you tonight_' that means," he continued, then started shaking her small shoulders violently with his large hands, "I DON'T PLAN ON MOLESTING YOU TONIGHT!"

He stopped as abruptly as he had started, and crushed her quavering frame against him once more, soothing away the locks of hair that had flown about when he had shook her, "And I'd appreciate, _really_ appreciate, if you were a little grrrate-ful and didn't look at me like I was going to go back on my word when I started getting ready for bed-a-bye time."

He smiled and poked her nose gently, "Just like _you_ should have been getting ready _too_."

Evelyn nodded, agreeing with him, "Wh, who knew I could be such a bitch? I hope...you'll accept an apology?"

The Joker giggled, "I just _knew_ we were going to get _along_ _splen-did-ly_."

He shushed her again, placing a finger against her lips, which were slightly open to help her shuddering breathing return to normal, "Sh, sh, shhhhh. No need for apologies, my dear little Evie, I know you'll try harder next time."

He released her so suddenly that she almost fell, but she caught herself before she could fall on her ass. He went back to undressing, with not a care in the world, and started to unbutton his sleeves.

Evelyn quickly squatted to the floor, and undid the straps on her high heels. She slid them off her feet, one at a time, and with one bare foot, slid them over the floor to the foot of the bed.

She looked up to see that the Joker had stopped on the last button again, and was watching her expectantly.

He resisted the urge to smile again, wondering if his little Evie was going to play along...

Or if he needed to fetch his knife from where he had left it earlier in the chair, to _help_ her...

His onyx eyes were delighted as he watched her start unbuttoning the corset over her white dress shirt. She did it slowly, but not slow enough to annoy him. Her slender fingers popped the final button and she unwrapped it from her waist, folding it carefully...

Oh, Evie, Evie, Evie... You should be _glad_ I'm a simple man with simple pleasures.

Not breaking eye contact, she set it on the floor by her shoes, and moved to undo her shirt.

Because if I wasn't such a simple man...

Evie slowly undid the buttons of her shirt, trying to breathe as she undid the top button and worked her way down, repeating to herself that he was a man of his word to sooth her rising hackles.

I would set aside time _just_ to _play_ with _you_.

The Joker took in the creamy buff beige skin she revealed, and the black and white pinstripe hint of a bra and enjoyed the strip show.

But, I _suppose_, everyone needs a hobby from work.

Evelyn peeled the shirt from her body, she suddenly felt very clammy as the Joker watched. She folded her shirt with grim finality and set it on top of her corset.

The Joker's eyes leered at the skin she had bared, the smooth plane of her stomach, that flared down into the curves of her hip, and down her skirt clad thighs...

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Evelyn's hand fidgeted over her skirt, and they made over to her side, where the zipper was. Her fingers stopped over the latch, and with her face staring directly at his, she bit her lip, worrying the flesh between her teeth. Her hands started to shake as badly as they had before and her breathing increased.

And Jack simply wasn't dull.

The Joker knew she was having difficulty when she visibly shuddered, then shoved her skirt down her legs so quickly, he knew it had taken great effort for her to do.

But sex wasn't fun unless there was a great deal of pain involved, spiced with the scent of fear.

He eyed her matching boy cut undies appreciatively, and asked, looking back up at her eyes, "Why so _serious_, Evie? That's as far as you have to go, we're just going to sleep. You're making this into _such_ a _fuss_."

His question, which was voiced with a growl, prompted her to respond more quickly than before, and he saw her stop shaking when he mentioned she didn't have to take off any more clothes. He knew she was only being _so_ forthcoming because of how vulnerable she now was, bare for his eyes to see.

Evelyn squeaked, and in a rush of words that he almost didn't quite understand, said, "I've never done this before."

When the words left her mouth, Evelyn clapped a hand over her traitorous tongue. His growl had promised anger and she had opened her mouth before thinking of the consequences.

No, no, no! She _didn't want to say that_! What kind of stupidity had suddenly infected her!?

He rolled his eyes dramatically and took off his shirt, causing her to avert her eyes reflexively.

If he wasn't so damned curious as to why she was acting like she was about to hyperventilate, or eve more annoying, faint, he would have smacked her. He was too tired for this shit.

He brought his hands up, palms toward the ceiling and said, voice rising in pitch, "Evie! We are not even DOING anything. Explain yourself NOW."

Evelyn fidgeted her feet against the floor and gestured about her wildly, "I mean this, I mean I've never let someone see me like this before, I've never tried this before. I don't know what to do."

He let the implications of her words sink in and stared at her in amazement, "You've never done this before?"

He gave her a good look over once more.

Nope. No terrible deformities. She was a good looking girl. Smart. And had a job or school or _something_ like that. That's what gentleman were all into nowadays right?

Something wasn't adding up.

"_Why_ ever _not_?"

Evelyn rung her hands and chanced a look at his face before turning away again, "I have a problems trusting people."

Oh honey you're tellin' me.

His eyes went immediately to her scar, and he believed her. But wasn't that little bit just about her mother? Was the betrayal of one's mother simply that _devastating_?

The Joker's eyes rolled to the side as he tried to recall her drivers license again, "So, let me get this straight Evie...you're...twenty? And you've never had sex?"

She shook her head yes and, taking a new interest in his doll sized Evie, who now truly looked like a doll without her high heels on, he took a moment or two to think about going through twenty years of life without at least trying sex once.

He crossed his arms and stared her down, "You don't strike me as someone as addle-brained to wait for true love. Right Evie?"

Evelyn sighed and crossed her arms too, staring him dead in the face, "No. I don't believe in love."

The Joker made a click with his tongue and was surprised that his little Evie really meant what she said.

Even _he_ knew love was real. He'd seen people crying over other their loved one's bodies _all_ the time.

He just had no real use for it.

Love? That was just silly. Who needed love when they could direct their attention to receiving widespread emotional responses from multiple people with something as simple, and to him, almost as effortless as...fear?

Why should he waste his time gratifying himself with only one person, when there was a whole wide world he could watch burn? All of that chaos... All of the potential...

It gave him something to do with his life. Something he was _good_ at.

A lifelong pursuit, if you will.

"Tell me, Evie, do you have any best friends?"

Evelyn looked at him and felt awkward admitting something that should have been so casual...

"No."

"Any boyfriends?"

"No."

"Any _pets_? I _refuse_ to believe you're a total _heartless_ bitch."

The scared look in her eyes said that she did, and that she was afraid for her critters' lives if she said yes. He continued before he made her choose, already knowing what he wanted to know.

"So, the only _living_ things you open yourself up to," he stated thrumming a set of fingers against his left bicep, causing the muscles to twitch, "Are creatures who could never make you feel...betrayed."

It felt awkward to hear someone say it. She didn't even have pets, really. Just a white stray cat that came to her doorstep once a night for food. It let her pet him, and she did. She somewhat cared for it, fixing it up when it got in a fight, or bathed it once a month, taking it inside when she was having a particularly bad day...

But she always let it out. As sympathetic as she was to animals, because, what the Joker said had been true, they didn't betray you, she didn't want to let herself get too close. If she got too close.

Then what would she do if it got ran over in the street? Or grew old and died in her home?

She couldn't handle that anymore. She just couldn't.

She knew an old lady at her work, she was nice and polite, and she liked her. She really liked her. She would read the same books as the old lady, just to appease her so that she could have someone to discuss them over with during lunch.

But Evie wouldn't allow that friendship to expand outside of work.

She was old, and eventually she would die, too.

"You're pretty fucked up, Evie," he laughed happily, making the motion for crazy with his finger swirling around his temple, "Wheeeeeewwww!"

He shook his head in disbelief when he got that out of his system, his wide eyes sternly upon her he mockingly let her know, "I'd like to take _lessons_ from whoever did _that_ to you ."

He then dismissed the conversation and took off his pants.

Evelyn was thrown off for a moment, before she realized he had lost interest in the conversation.

He eased the kinks out of his neck, before turning his thumb at the bed, "But for right now, shut the hell up and get your ass in bed, we both have work to do tomorrow and we both need our beauty sleep, and one of us, _more_ than the other."

The Joker saw Evie's gaze divert from his face, and eye him up, her curiosity finally getting the best of her embarrassment. And he knew that for as fidgety as all her _rules_ and _layers_ she had wrapped around herself had made her to be...

Evie liked what she could see.

Evelyn's eyes flashed quickly up and down his long frame, taking in the lean muscle tone that had been hidden under his layers of clothing earlier. His chest was covered in an odd assortment of small scars, most likely bullet and knife fight wounds, and further down his front, a thin trail of hair disappeared into his simple green boxers. His legs were lightly muscled, and dusted with fine bits of dirty blond hair.

She wondered if the muscle in his legs had come from escaping certain death on varying occasions.

With her fear swept aside temporarily by the command in his gruff voice, and in how his mood had taken a turn for the good, she flushed a bit and wondered how someone who could scare her so thoroughly, be so attractive? She was frightened of him, she _didn't_ want to have sex with him.

But why, did she not mind sneaking a peek at his bare body, and mentally complimenting him?

Her mind answered her as he pulled the comforter off the bed, revealing a pillow she hadn't seen earlier.

He was the devil in disguise.

* * *

Elsewhere, at Batman's new bat cave, Bruce Wayne stared hard at the security camera footage he had been studying for the past half hour. His dark eyes scanned the young lady next to the disguised Joker and he cursed lowly at the camera angle, _again_.

The security camera of the nightclub a little ways down the street from where the two had been standing, had caught the majority of the Joker's frame, which unfortunately shadowed the petite woman beside him almost completely.

He sighed and manipulated the camera just a bit more, trying by a sheer force of will to get the footage to reveal the Joker's mysterious savior.

The brooding billionaire, so engrossed in his work, _almost_ didn't notice that Alfred had crept up behind him. He turned his head to him and nodded in an informal greeting and trained his eyes back to the footage.

"I figured the Mayor's little plan was going to go awry," Wayne growled, "But I wasn't quite expecting _this_ turn of events."

Bruce Wayne had been called up by the Make-A-Wish Foundation at the behest of a boy who admired his accomplishments; and he felt as though even his 'Playboy' alter-ego couldn't blow off a cancer stricken child.

He had devoted a week of his time for the boy, Christopher, taking him along in his private jet to tour the Seven World Wonders, and Disneyland.

The Seven Wonders idea had been Alfred's. And looking back at how delighted the boy had been while pressing his nose to the glass of one of his helicopters to scope out the Great Wall of China, he was grateful for his most trusted friend and companion to supply him with such a good idea.

To Bruce Wayne, and to Batman, Alfred was a brilliant pivotal point of their world; he was something that even his father couldn't have quite been.  
There weren't words to describe the trust and loyalty he had for his butler.

His jet had just landed at the airbase on Gotham's outer limit when the Gotham S.W.A.T. team had initiated the gunfight with the Joker, at the Mayor's behest and top secret orders. If Bruce Wayne had been in Gotham...

This wouldn't of happened.

"It's a shame they did, sir," Alfred lamented, "After discovering what the Mayor had in mind, I was for the idea, _completely_."

Bruce grimaced at the chide he heard in Alfred's posh manner of speaking.

His butler did not approve of his moral inability to kill a killer.

They both knew that he was stubborn, and though Alfred realized this, he wasn't about to pass up a good chance to rub in his thoughts on the matter and rifle his master's feathers.

"So what about this security footage has merited your unwavering attention?" Alfred asked and peered into the largest of the multiple monitors before his charge.

Bruce pointed with a pen at a wave of brown layered hair that was just barely visible behind the Joker and growled, "That."

He returned his hand with its matching pair, which was holding his jaw off of his desk.

"I want to know who she is.

"She came from further down the street, past the camera's line of sight," Bruce removed his hand from under his chin to point again with the pen in the background, "She's petite, and I haven't been able to peg any brunette like that in any earlier footage, which might have shown her coming up to the corner where Joker was shot at.

"I'm sure that she was hidden by the other pedestrians because she's so short, and so far, after reviewing all of this damned footage, the only clear image I can conjure is this one right here.

"In this shot, and according to the sniper in the police report, this is where 'the short brown chick' pushed him out of the way, before dropping to the pavement, and scampering away."

Bruce ran a hand through his tussled brown hair and explained, "The next few moments of footage _do_ show that someone fell to the ground, but there are so many sets of legs around her, that all I can distinguish is that she's wearing a black coat and has long brown hair, which _unfortunately_, has _also_ managed to obscure her face from the camera's view.

"And no," Bruce sighed, "There are no other cameras that were set up along this street for me to try and pull a definite shot of her up."

Alfred tilted his head to the side and inquired, "And why are you so curious about this woman, sir?"

Bruce Wayne looked mournfully at the terribly pixel laden screen and then up to his butler.

"Because if _I'm_ curious to know about the woman who would risk her own life to save a stranger, one who she may or may not know is the Joker...

"So is he."

Alfred nodded and Bruce continued, "She darts into the alley behind her, right there, and then, as far as I can tell..."

Alfred finished for him, "She disappears."

"And that's not the least of my worries," the Dark Knight sighed, and not for the first or last time that night.

He hit the play button on the footage, which showed the Joker firing off a few rounds, alongside his men, before escaping down the same alley as the mysterious woman.

"Oh dear," Alfred said, quite serious.

"Oh dear indeed."

A/N: I'm sorry I went over a bit past midnight my time. I didn't mean to make this chapter so long, but the words just kind of flew from my mind to the keyboard. But that was probably because I had the whole day off. I had a reader inform me of some grammatical errors, so I downloaded a free word processor from that the site recommended, instead of using wordpad to make this chapter, like I did with the previous ones.

08/18/2008 Edited by Miss Button Madder, and corrected by .Verbal.Rape.

So let me know what you think! I'm kind of nervous about this chapter... And I haven't really been nervous so far... I'm kind of scared. /

But thanks to everyone who left me such great reviews! I try and make sure I reply to everyone who graces me with one! Especially the long kind!

ALSO, I HAVE A QUESTION

If I needed to go back to fix some grammatical errors in chapters 1-4, and any ones I make in the future, would I just need to delete the chapter, then re-upload it again? I'm not quite sure, and I don't want to mess anything up before I know fo' sho'.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six - The Night

Evelyn skittered toward the bed and passed a _critical_ eye over what she would be sleeping on. A lot of her was uncovered and she didn't want any unwelcome surprises. Her bedmate didn't seem interested in her innocence, or in tainting it for the night, so she could _do_ this.

She'd slept next to a man before. The physical warmth of it was pleasant, and she had always enjoyed it until that particular one had tried to push his luck.

But there was something comforting about sleep. It involved no words if she was lucky. Little movement. And listening to another person's breathing could be quite calming.

The Joker held the comforter in his hands, letting the majority of it trail on the floor as watched her movements languidly, pleased that she wasn't whimpering anymore.

She slid a knee on top of the mattress, testing it. It wasn't as loud as she thought it was going to be, but at least there weren't any coils sticking up that would call for her to get an extra tetanus shot when circumstances allowed that she could get one.

The Joker snorted, suppressing a laugh as he did, "It's not going to bite." Only his Evie could look at a bed as if it might swallow her whole.

"Well," Evelyn smiled coyly at him, trying to lighten the mood at a quick thought that had come to mind, "My body isn't as rock hard as yours. I'm not quite as durable."

She could tell that he didn't mind the blended compliment.

"No need to state the _obvious_, doll," he said, but with a relaxed smile.

"You wound me," Evelyn said as she pretended she was wearing her swimsuit. She had slept next to someone before, but, she had also been wearing a _considerable_ amount of pj's.

She had boarded the bed near the foot, and pointed further up where the pillow was, "How do you want me to lay down?"

He was about to shrug an 'I don't really give a shit' answer, when a grin lifted the side of his mouth...

"Show me how you _usually_ sleep."

Evelyn didn't know why he wanted to know, but, she didn't care. The way she liked to sleep, ensured that she _wouldn't_ fall out of her bra in the middle of the night, and he _wouldn't_ get a free show.

She stretched out like a cat towards the pillow, sliding her body up the bed until her head was where it should be. She moved the pillow so that he could have it, allowing him the side of the bed that wasn't pressed against the wall, and laid her left cheek down against the mattress.

She then curled her left arm so that it could cushion her head, and moved her right hand so that it comfortably held onto the area of her upper arm, located directly above her left elbow. Much like how someone would cushion their head against their desk if they wanted to fall asleep.

She shook her hair off to the side and was about to ask if her position was fine when he drug the covers with him to turn off the light, then _hopped_ up on the bed, and towered over her.

For a breathless moment Evelyn felt her entire body tense in sheer terror at the unexpected action, the hair on the back of her neck starting to rise-

-until she realized he was harmlessly settling the comforter over both of them.

In the abrupt darkness, she could only make a few things out. She felt most of it.

The Joker fell into a backwards bounce, landing gracelessly beside Evelyn, while he aligned himself against her side and let his head fall onto the pillow. The comforter fell against the back of Evie's neck, with a gust of escaping air, and covered only half of the Joker's scarred torso.

Too curious to feel unsettled just yet, she watched as he lifted his head up for a moment to run his fingers through his long dyed hair, then he leaned back into the pillow, drew his right arm around the ones Evie had curled around her, let his left hand shift up slightly above his head, and then stilled.

Evelyn realized that he slept in a sprawl when she felt the covers readjust so that he could kick out his left foot out from under them.

The situation suddenly felt so strange, and unrealistic that she wasn't as frightened as she thought she _should_ feel. The darkness seemed to ease her, rather than intimidate her.

How had she ended up in this mess? To wind up sleeping next to a criminal who dressed like a clown and happily exploded buildings to his heart's content?

She should have just stayed home today.

And now, her side pressing next to his, she could feel the warmth radiating off of his body, and onto hers.

She would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't grateful for it. Evelyn usually slept under a horde of blankets that she tucked around her while her arms encircled her pillow and she systematically buried her face into it to fall asleep.

As she settled herself to try and get comfortable enough to drift in blissful unawareness, she knew that without the Joker's presence beside her, her body would not have been as comfortable, and therefore, would have kept her awake much longer until complete fatigue stole her away into oblivion.

She didn't want that much time to her thoughts.

Her breathing started to deepen as she closed her eyes, willing sleep to come.

She reflected on the days turn of events and in how they had led her to learn more about the Joker than she ever wanted to know.

If she could just be sure to dance around his fury, and play on his more pleasant moods, she might live.

But for how long? Until he eventually grew tired of her?

Then he would just _kill_ her.

No, she needed to find some way to escape...

But how? The criminal she was lying next to had already been taken into custody by the police, and had been brought to Arkham Asylum, only to escape.

Obviously with the recent findings of corruption in the GPD, and with the fact that they weren't capable of holding the Joker, that left her with no where to turn...

Except, perhaps, the Batman? No. Hadn't he killed those police officers or something? He was a renegade now...

But the newspapers still covered him bagging baddies... Maybe there was more to his story than met the eye...

Yet _now_ was hardly the time to dwell on someone else's problems.

Evelyn had her own. Her eyes opened to visually make sure her captor hadn't moved, then closed again in thought.

No, it was silly to think someone was going to save her. And she didn't think there was anything that could stop the Joker from tracking her down if he wanted to.

He was simply unstoppable...

Evelyn grimaced silently.

She was so screwed.

No one could save her, and this was the real world. And in the real world, the bad guys always won.

Evelyn would simply have to be sure that as the Joker's new doll, she would have to make sure that his interest in her kept rising...

Lest she was no longer thought of as a collectible...

...and disposed of.

The Joker, laying still and breathing evenly, was thinking.

He was waiting for Evie to fall asleep. Or, at least he would for a few more minutes.

Her form was still tense against him, her arms never slackening their hold that wrapped around her. How many nights had Evie tucked herself away from the whole wide world?

She wasn't an _unpleasant_ person, but she didn't believe in love. Didn't want to trust anyone.

...the mask Evie wore wasn't as obvious as his.

And yet, he wondered how many times she had looked in the mirror, and had _hated_ what was staring back at her? Hated that she was alone. Hated that she could never find solace in another human being. Hating and hating that her hard learned lesson was a daily reminder. A trip down memory lane... Every day.

He almost thrummed his fingers against the mattress.

How many times had she reached out her hand to someone, before pulling back?

She slept with her back turned on the world.

But when her feathers weren't ruffled, she was _quite_ the _doll_.

Amusing, pliable, and pretty.

Just like every doll should be.

And in Evie's mind lurked wit and just enough courage to intrigue him, coupled with the right amount of knowledge on _submission_ to know when to back the fuck down.

If she wasn't so afraid of intimacy, he knew she would be a bit mouthier.

But then she wouldn't be as fun.

And with how innocent, and scared of sex as she was, he knew he could manipulate her into whatever he wished.

He remembered the feeling of her small hands working at his... That had been nice.

Dealing with his lackeys was always followed with headaches. Even if he killed them, or blew shit up, he still needed an aspirin to deal with their _lingering_ effects.

Evie did have uses.

And she had mentioned steak. Of course, his food cravings were few and far between. He usually ingested just enough to keep him going. Running around Gotham causing mayhem and destruction wasn't done as well on a full stomach. But every now and then, he supposed...

Her most useful offer had been about her skill with needles. The small sets of scars on his body were testament that he didn't associate with the most...tolerable of people.

Even the _tolerable_ Batman sometimes used bladed weapons and gadgets. And he knew if he continued to carve on the Bat in their disagreements, eventually he might be moved to inflict more serious injuries.

Evie, Evie, Evie... What will I do with you?

She would be so fun to _play_ with, and with his eyes _closed_ he could envision seeing her hazel eyes go _wide_, and in the surrounding silence, he could imagine the sound of her hitching breath, and could feel it fluttering against him. It was like creating his very own masterpiece.

Evie's frame started to ease against his length, the muscles in her arms relaxing against his, and her breathing soon came out in light whispers.

It took a moment for him to realize that the whispers of air were snores.

She must have been thoroughly exhausted.

Well, the Joker decided, there was no sense in making plans, because then he would just have to go and break them anyways.

Maybe he should let Evie decide?

He looked at Evie to get her take on his dilemma.

She slumbered on, and said nothing.

"Some help you _are_," he grumbled, light enough not to wake her, and closed his eyes.

A/N: I know this chapter is kind of short, but I wanted the next one to start with Evie waking up. P Not too much action in this chapter... I know, mega _disappointing /_. But I'm _crazy_ tired. Writing about sleeping is making me sleepy. It is like 1:08AM on my side of the world.

Tell me what you think though!

It really makes a big impact on me if you review.

Speaking of, THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND PRAISE AND HELPING ME FIND ERRORS, LOL, AND TEACHING ME HOW TO EDIT THEM!

All of my readers rock, hardcore.

08/18/2008 Edited by Miss Button Madder, corrected by .Verbal.Rape.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 07 – Nothing at All

Evelyn's eyes opened slowly.

She yawned and rubbed at them for a long moment, taking her time in waking. As her hand from her eyes moved to politely cover her mouth, she froze.

Her eyes darted around, and started to search for the Joker. She could no longer feel him next to her, which, worried her even more, because she didn't know _where_ he was.

But she soon discovered he was nowhere in sight as she pushed herself up to look around, and peer into the dark room.

The door had been left open, and light streamed in from what she assumed, was the window in the living area of the hunter green themed apartment.

He had left the door open.

The simplistic action confused her. Part of her wondered _why_?

Reason answered.

_Because he knows that there's no where you can go to escape him. Duh Evie. Get with the program._

Oh yeah.

Evelyn pursed her lips unhappily and cast her frustration out with a gloomy look.

It caused her to notice the piece of paper lying on a heap of items that had been piled on his desk chair, which was turned to face the bed.

She could barely make out the writing in the darkness, so she eased herself out of bed and with sound _relief_, put her clothes back on quickly before picking up the piece of paper that had been written on with red marker.

Beneath the paper was her purse, and on the chair's back, rested her black coat.

Curious, she took it with her to the doorway, and read it from there after her finger flipped the light switch on.

The note said:

DOLL-

YOU HAVE WORK TO DO

DON'T FUCK IT UP

I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

SEE YOU AT 9

Well, he had been going through her things. So, of course he knew where she lived. But how was she going to get out of here? Where was she?

Evelyn sighed and note still in hand, dropped it on the chair to put on her coat.

She slipped an arm in, and immediately withdrew it with disgust evident on her face.

Dried and crusty bits of blood had collected in the arm of her tailored coat. Of course. The blood had to go _somewhere_.

Evelyn decided that she wouldn't be wearing this coat until she could properly clean it.

Speaking of clean...

Her hazel eyes fell on the bed, and her finger twitched for a moment.

She made the bed, and was sure to push in the chair to its rightful place. Her eyes caught the random bits of paper, and maps of the city, and she backed away, deciding it was in her best interests if she didn't know what information they held.

It was none of her business anyway, and she had her own fish to fry.

But first, she picked up her purse, and dumped out its contents on the freshly made bed.

Her small notebook, pen, wallet, house keys, hairbrush, powder, lip gloss, Zune, hand sanitizer, cell phone, and ASP came tumbling out. She didn't think he was going to give that back to her. She flipped open her phone, which was still running on the last bit of its battery, and discovered the time 8:16 a.m.

Her hand roved over her shiny-smooth, blue-black wallet, and opened it.

...everything had been put back the way it was. From her ID to her public library card.

For a moment, she tried to rationalize why he had put everything back the way he had found it, then shrugged it off, discerning how _silly_ that _idea_ was.

Evelyn put everything back in her purse, and ventured beyond the bedroom.

The living room, which she hadn't had the chance to look over last night, was mostly bare except for a couch which lay against the wall, against the window, and a television that sat on the wooden floor in front of it.

She moved to the window, drawn to it, only to be disappointed.

It presented a lovely view of the next building. Which was only five feet away.

She turned away from the window, which had no curtains, nor needed them she supposed, and turned to the television. She doubted it would work, but moved to turn it on anyway, encouraged by the power cord that connected it to a bare electricity socket.

Evelyn was surprised when it actually came on, the partially snowy picture blaring the feed from the local news station.

She chose to sit down and listen. She couldn't remember the last time she had

Within fifteen minutes she had the following information:

1. The police had not discovered the identity of the civilian who had saved the Joker (luckily).

2. They were accepting any information regarding the civilian's whereabouts to take them into protective custody (so that people wouldn't beat her down for saving a murderer).

3. The Joker was still at large (obviously).

She turned off the television and moved to exit the front door quickly, passing a meager kitchen that had been next to bedroom, another thing she had been too tired and..._preoccupied,_ to notice last night.

But Evelyn did not have the time to browse.

She closed the door behind her, and was greeted with a square of apartment doors, and in the midst of them, a _once_ grand square staircase.

However, _now_, it resembled an adventure that would befit the likes of Indiana Jones, rather than Evelyn in high heels. Random holes littered the stairs, as well as puddles where water had leaked in. Parts of the railing were completely missing, and what concerned her, was that a pile of wood that dangerously resembled them was on the bottom floor.

There were also many scattered red stains, and more than just the one that was in front of the Joker's doorstep, which she had tried to...overlook.

At least the body had been moved.

Evelyn would take what she could get.

Bravely, she descended down four flights of stairs before she reached the bottom. The lounge area was done in the same wood as the Joker's apartment, only with faded blue furniture instead of faded hunter green. She brushed past the area, thrilled that there had been no lingering henchman in any of the many chairs and couches that littered the lounge.

The glass doors had been boarded from the outside, but the two by fours that had sealed the doors had been removed. She pushed open the door that was also in need of WD-40, and hit someone on her way out.

Evelyn braced herself for repercussions, half-expecting the Joker, but was oddly relieved and disappointed when she realized the unfortunate 'door stopper' was someone new.

"Hey!" the voice said, skittering to the side and into view, "Where's 'tha fire!?"

She was shocked.

This boy couldn't have been over seventeen years old. His light chestnut brown hair was scattered about, showing his true age, and his thin lanky frame, which was taller than her (who wasn't?), but not quite as tall as the Joker, showed the awkward movements of adolescence.

He was chalky white, and looked like he hadn't eaten a healthy meal in days...

...or perhaps all his young life, she realized, taking in the spot of dirt on his cheek.

His prominent cheekbones added to that effect, and drew her eyes to his alarming green ones. Bright and easily readable to Evelyn. He was sporting a small cut on his boyish mouth, and looked rather ragamuffin with his worn in black converse, and faded and torn blue jeans. He wore an urban green jacket that sported a plethora of pockets, and covered a black hoodie.

His long artistic hands were covered with fingerless black gloves and were currently holding a cigarette.

This threw Evelyn _off_. Was this boy dangerous? Just because he looked cute and innocent, didn't mean that he _was_.

He read her scrutinizing gaze and scratched the back of his head and took a puff of his cigarette before assuring her, "I'm Aidan. Joker told me to stay here and take ya back to your casa. He thought it would be for the best, seeing as how this side of town isn't designed for 'pretty little things like Evie'."

Evelyn took in this information, and shifted her coat in her hands, asking uncomfortably, "How old are you? Why are you..."

"Hangin' with the Joker?" he finished, a sad smile drawling on his face.

She looked him up and down again, then nodded.

He took another drag of his cigarette, before putting it out against the building, "He found me sleeping on the street outside of here, and..._kicked_ me.

"When I woke, he told me if I could handle it, I could come inside, and if I couldn't, that he was about ta up the percentage of Gotham's death toll.

"It was freezing balls, and the streets don't make the most inviting of beds, so I decided I would take my chances. He said he had use for someone as 'innocent' and 'inconspicuous' as me, and quite honestly, I didn't want ta become a statistic at seventeen."

The boy ran his hand through his hair, adding to his disheveled appearance, "It's not so bad working for the Joker though... He mainly has me scope out the layouts of buildings and follow people around for information. He doesn't think I have enough meat to be used as a human shield either, so he doesn't sign me up for anything that might involve him using me as such."

Aidan laughed, "He's not above smacking me around if I piss him off though, but he's a lot easier ta please than my father was. So I don't get smacked around too _often_. And if I keep an ear out for useful information... Well... I'll just say that he tips pretty well for a crazy clown."

Aidan suddenly paled and looked to Evelyn worriedly, raising his hands in a pleading manner, "Don't tell him I said that though, I was just joking around, honest! Chelsea smiles just aren't my thing and-"

Evelyn raised a hand gently and made a shushing/calm down motion as she assured him, "You're fine! My lips are sealed! I'm not too fond of the idea either."

The teen exhaled through hollowed cheeks and his wide green eyes relaxed.

She gave him a weak smile and offered him her hand, "Well, I've been quite rude, allow me to introduce myself, I'm Evelyn."

Aidan eyed her curiously, then slowly wrapped his hand around hers cautiously, shaking it. He now looked _her_ over.

"You know, you're not quite what I expected," Aidan said, "When the Joker said he had a 'new toy Doll' I thought he meant a whore... But you're _obviously_ not a whore."

Evelyn's mouth contorted into what could be mistaken for a wry grin.

At her expression, Aidan let out a guffaw, apologizing and laughing at the same time, "Sorry! It's just that I've never seen the Joker take an interest in...someone like _you_ before."

Evelyn crossed her arms, still holding her jacket and her purse over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow, she didn't know what to say to that.

Aidan chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets, graceful enough to look embarrassed, "What can I say? I've mastered the art of making a complete fool of myself in front of the fairer sex a loooong time ago."

Evelyn offered him a small smile and deciding that she liked Aidan, said, "I have a feeling you're not a total hopeless cause.

"Now," she said, getting down to business, "Will you be accompanying me until the Joker turns up, or are you just my ride?"

The boy, feeling likewise about Evelyn, offered, "The only thing he told me was ta make sure that I got ya to your house safe and sound. He didn't specify if he wanted me to stay or leave, so, if ya want, I'll hang around for as long as ya like."

Evelyn smiled for real now at the boy, and moved closer to wipe the smudge of dirt off of his cheek with her thumb.

Aidan felt something stir in him at the action.

No one had ever smiled at him like that before. And it felt awkward having someone as pretty, refined, and classy as the young woman before him, paying such attention to an insignificant street rat kid like him. Usually broads like this ignored him completely, or looked down their snooty noses at him as if he was..._contagious_ or something. _Hell_ if he knew what was in their bitchy brains.

But this pretty lady had just touched him like it was nothing at all.

Her voice jarred him from his thoughts.

"We really should get a move on though, the Joker's given me quite the list of things to accomplish today."

Aidan grinned and pulled his keys out of his blue jeans, twirling them on his middle finger while he pointed behind her, "There's our ride. She's not the hottest thing on the block, but she's my baby."

Evelyn didn't quite know why, but she was charmed when she turned to see the dark teal-gray colored Geo Metro to which Aidan referred to so endearingly.

Evelyn giggled, "I don't see _how_ you could have girl problems with a car like that. Just _look_ at that fine tuned machine." She sighed as if she wished it were her very own, "It's practically sex on wheels."

Aidan strutted past her and opened her door, growling in good nature, "Get in the car woman! We're wasting daylight!"

She smiled and set her purse in her lap as she slid in, glad for the blessing that was Aidan. She didn't know if she could deal with how her life had turned without at least one friendly face.

As Aidan slid in the car, she promised, "If I get everything done before the Joker gets to my house, I'll whip you up something to eat for your troubles."

At the way his mouth gaped slightly at the mention of food, Evelyn knew she had a fan.

Aidan said reverently, "You must be an angel in disguise." And in an effort to help Evelyn with her chores all the much quicker, jerked the car into motion more quickly than necessary.

Evelyn's next smile, which Aidan thankfully didn't notice, was not a happy one.

For as charming as Aidan certainly was, part of Evelyn was cast into sorrow.

This boy was in as much danger as Evie, and was just as likely to get killed.

Evelyn felt her jaw clench as she recalled the short story of his life that he had mentioned. He was so young... It was obvious that his father had beat him. That he had been as outcast as Evelyn, if not more so. Males usually always had it a bit harder than girls. The world wasn't so kind to them. It was often stereo-typed that 'men can handle it' and that they were much 'tougher than girls.'

Evelyn herself had never ended up on the streets. The old lady that had stitched up her arm had taken her in for two years after her mother had died, before the old woman herself had died of cancer at a respectable age.

Her thoughts drifted to the old woman. Part of her had never let that woman in. She had pretended to love her, and _did_ care for her. But she had not healed from the scar that her mother had left within and without her.

Guilt still weighed heavily upon Evelyn, that she had not given that old woman her due. Had not been able to love her as the old woman had eventually come to love her. She had wasted so much time. Evelyn blinked away the thought.

_At least I said thank you_. Evelyn thought numbly. _At least, I had the courage to say it before she died. Before her old eyes closed that final time._

Emotion _surged_ through Evelyn before she coldly pushed it away, shutting it down.

It was a skill that she had perfected since that time. A mechanical process that she needed. Something that helped her deal...

She needed that part of her...

Her eyes swiveled to her peripheral, glancing at Aidan.

Because people died.

* * *

They arrived at Evelyn's home quickly with Aidan at the wheel, and she pointed out her blue gray painted home so that Aidan could park alongside it.

It was a tall and narrow affair, much like all of the houses on the street, crammed together neatly in a myriad of matching dark colors, all sporting the same stone steps and stair rails that led up into each individual home.

Here, 13814 Laguna Ave, was home to Evelyn Rivers.

Aidan looked about, getting his bearings, and asked, surprised, "You don't have a car?"

Evelyn skipped up the steps, glad to be home, and glad to shower.

"My Vespa's in the shop right now."

As Evelyn said it, she paused for a moment. Things would have been different if she had taken it to the bank instead...

She hadn't thought of it before, and with the bank only a block away, she didn't mind the walk. The only reason why it hadn't hit her before, was that she wouldn't have been able to take her Vespa _anyway_ yesterday.

Her errands and shopping would have _undoubtedly_ ridden her with too many bags for the moped to carry. She would have had to taken a taxi, like she had planned to hail after picking up some cash at the bank.

Evelyn had needed the cash for some of the random stores she shopped in, that were too poor to carry plastic cash reading machines.

"A _Vespa_?" Aidan asked, incredulously, "No wonder you were so taken with my Gina."

After Evelyn opened the door, she turned to give Aidan a questioning stare.

"Gina's my Geo," he said, thumb indicating the '95 teal gray death trap behind them.

Evelyn rolled her eyes, suppressing a snort of laughter and let them inside.

Aidan whistled.

Evelyn had been expecting it. Since she didn't have anyone to spend her money on, she had spent it on her home.

It only followed that Aidan could mistake her for the owner of the Pier One branch in Asia.

Her whole home was a contemporary and modern tribute to Asian art and furniture. The only major variances were the main colors that changed by room, the accenting color was an easy on the eye vanilla cream creation she had found at Lowe's.

Her living room/library was done in reds, bathrooms in plums and lavenders, utility room in emerald green, and bedroom in a pearly sapphire. However, cream was the color she had painted her kitchen, which complimented her black appliances, counter, and table rather well.

Evelyn's favorite room was the living room. From the front door it stretched out down the entire length of her house, till it hit the winding staircase. To her immediate right lay her massive kitchen, which, with its many cabinets and breakfast bar had been the house's selling point. Beyond the kitchen lay a bathroom, then to the far right corner of the house, from the front door, was the utility room.

Up the staircase was the master bath and bedroom.

Evelyn gestured to the kitchen and with a "help yourself" she explained her intentions of showering, and left Aidan to fend for himself, and her refrigerator quaking in figurative fear.

* * *

The Joker had gotten up early to complete the finishing touches for his all due _retaliation_.

According to his inside informants (unfortunately, he hadn't had any on the S.W.A.T. Team, to prevent the whole mess that had occurred yesterday), the assassination attempt had been the Mayor's little...spark of genius.

One good _turn_ deserves another.

He chuckled darkly.

The henchmen that heard the sound forced themselves to remain _motionless,_ instead of inching away like their reflexive responses dictated.

His henchmen had been out and about all night, tending to his affairs, while he tended to his little Evie.

Now that the fireworks were all in place, destruction was imminent, and the Joker was giddy with delight.

However, his black eyes turned to the kid that had been stupid enough to not look both ways before crossing the street.

The Joker's eyes narrowed dangerously. The little shit had almost become Hannibal's cracker spread all over his white kiddie kidnapper van.

The blood would have drawn attention that he didn't want just yet, and would have caused a scene. Luckily, his driver hadn't been drinking, and had used his sober reflexes quick enough to just effectively cause the twelve year old to faint on sight.

He smacked him.

It was time to get this show on the road.

The boy awoke with a start, and seeing the Joker's painted face, drew back in terror, only to hit the side of the van with, what the Joker thought at least, his thick skull.

"Oh look!" the Joker said, feigning surprise, "You're awake!"

His voice dropped a bit, growling, because he wasn't really amused, "Perfect timing."

The boy started to shake, and Joker patted his duct taped hands before placing a tape in them and gesturing wildly with his own hands, "_To_day is your lucky day!"

The look on the boy's face disagreed.

The scarred man now looked surprised, "What's this? Why so _serious_ little boy?"

Fortunately, the boy did have common sense, and kept his mouth shut.

The Joker smiled threateningly, daring him to answer as he asked, sudden inspiration stirring within him...

"Hey, you wanna know how I got these scars?" he drawled.

Feeling his heart rate rising dramatically, blood pounding in his ears at the notorious line, he looked to the other clown-masked men in the van for help.

The Joker didn't like that, if the make-up stained red tongue was any clue as it flicked over his crimson mouth, and grabbed his face to divert his attention back to where it should be.

On him.

As quick as a blink he was out of his own seat and on his knees before the boy. His blade was out of his pocket and on the boys cheeks instantly as he roughly held him in his steely grasp.

The boy fell completely immobile as the blade rested against his cheek, his wide blue eyes taking in the gleaming metal that could be fatal.

Pleased with the fear that oozed out of the boy, and now that he could practically taste it, he continued, slightly sated.

"You see, once upon a time, I was just a boy," he whispered now, "_Just_ like _you_."

He cleared his throat and looked past the boy, as if trying to sort through his memories, "Bit younger though, around eight if I recall...

"Well, anywhooo, _believe_ it or _not_, even though my mother ALWAYS warned me to look both ways before crossing the street...

"Always," the Joker explained.

"I didn't,"the scarred man said with an awkward frown on his smiling scars.

The Joker's dark orbs looked meaningfully into the boy's, and he growled again, "ALSO, _just_ like someone we all now _know_."

He glanced to his henchmen and sarcastically chuckled loudly. Loud enough for his henchmen to get the hint and laugh as well.

After the Joker felt like the mocking chorus of laughter had dragged on for as long as dramatically necessary, he continued, and the henchmen stopped _immediately_ when his voice started again. Good dogs.

"As it so happened, it was my lucky day too," the Joker mentioned, as if the memory was vivid in his mind.

The boy didn't think that any day when you got scars as wicked as the one's the Joker wore could be considered '_lucky_,' but he held his tongue.

"Well, needless to say, a car almost hit me, BUT, the driver was gracious enough to stop, even though I had acted like a _dimwit_," the Joker purred and reiterated the insult with a shake.

"Looking back, I had froze up like a deer in headlights, for sure knowing that I was about to become... roadkill.

"I was _so frozen_ that I didn't run away! Or even run up to the driver and say, like I SHOULD HAVE," his voice dropped in pitch to mimic a boy's, "Thank you sir, for sparing me and my s_tu-pid-i-ty_!"

The Joker spared the boy a serious look, "Me being all frozen-like, maybe _traumatized_ even, gave the driver enough time to get out of his car...and walk up to me... And kneel before you much like I'm doing for you _right now_.

"He placed his hands on my shoulders," the Joker moved his hands to the frightened child's shoulders, without interrupting himself, continuing, "And looked at me and asked...

"Why so serious?" it rolled out from the Joker like the threat it was, though it sounded innocent enough.

The Joker smiled and sniggered, imitating the man from his story, "The man said, 'You should be _happy_! Eternally GRATEFUL that I didn't kill you for being _such- _a- _little-_ fool!'"

The painted villain bit his lip, his facial features softening as he looked at the boy with mock tenderness, "_Just_ like _you_, I was thoroughly terrified. And my face just couldn't undertake this one man's SIMPLE _request_ for happiness in return for sparing my life."

The Joker sighed, "I tried as I might, but I just couldn't bring myself to _smile_. I was...too _scared_. Too _frightened_..."

The Joker's eyes now lit up as he drew his story to a close, "So the man took out his pocket knife... Saying as he did so, 'What? You can't smile? Aren't you happy that I _practically_ saved your _life_?'

"I said nothing...my heart was just _beating_, and _thundering_, and _pulsing_ through my little _boy_ ears," he moved a purple gloved hand to mimic a pulsing motion next to his own ears, knowing that the boy was now the physical manifestation of his story.

The Joker raised an eyebrow, now placing the blade against the boy's mouth, softly speaking, "The man brought his knife to my mouth and said...

"'Today's your lucky day...

"'...and it would make ME so _happy_ to see YOU so _happy_...

"'So ..." the Joker grinned, watching the tears start to run down the boy's face in _rivers_.

The Joker's next words came out in a quiet shout.

"'Let's put a _smile_ on that _face'_."

The boy's heart skipped a beat as he braced himself for pain with a gasp, trying not to gurgle out the sob that wanted to escape from his lightly trembling form.

The van came to a stop, and the Joker released the boy, shoving away from him as quickly as he had swooped down upon him, and sat back down in his previous seat.

The boy was still dazed, confused. Distrust evident in his baby blues as he watched the Joker, morbidly waiting for the knife to finish him.

The Joker explained as he savored the boy's reaction, bemused, "Today's your _lucky_ day..."

He laughed sarcastically at the boy, who he had told his 'story' to.

The whole thing had just been a ploy to pass the time of the drive.

"I don't want a smile from you, kiddo," he laughed, voice lilting as he ghosted his double edged knife over his scars.

He used the knife to stab at the tape he had put in the boy's hands without making contact.

"All I want in return for not _splattering_ you on the hood of my van, is for you to deliver that little tape you have in your hot little hands to the people inside the news building. All you have to do is make them play it in promptly..." he dug about in his coat for a few moments, before managing to fish out his cell phone, and used it to check the time.

"Four minutes. At 11:00 a.m. _exactly_."

The boy paled at his given task. Why would they believe some kid like him? He couldn't get a _news station_ to do something like that in only four minutes. They wouldn't believe him.

The Joker relished the sight of true sorrow and bounced up and down in glee.

"I really am SO NICE," he laughed, then gestured down to the boy's chest with his knife, where the boy had been too preoccupied to notice the explosive device that had been placed there, "I added a little _incentive_ for you, _and_ _motivation_ for our friendly Gotham news crew to believe you."

The boy would have pissed his pants if he hadn't already used the bathroom before leaving his house.

The Joker snapped his fingers, and his henchmen opened the back of the van.

"Best to get a move on," he sang, "Unless I see that footage airing on _all the channels_ at the time I have provided..."

The Joker grimaced, "Well, let's just say... you won't have to worry about seeing the likes of me again-"

He dragged the boy out of the van, and set him gently on the pavement, right outside of the news station.

"-Or anyone else you care about for that matter."

Before the boy could race up the steps to complete his task, the Joker called out to him before he was out of hearing, waving as if he was wishing him well to his first day of school.

"Oh, and Kiddo? You might want to be careful of where you step... I didn't have a lot of time to devise that little beauty you're wearing, so..." he twirled his finger in the air.

"You fall down-" he pointed to the ground...

Then made a mock explosion with his hands, "Go _boom_."

* * *

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! I've been off for the past few days from work and I decided to spend the time with my little sister, since the fall semester is about to start and I won't have as many chances to see her : P

I hope you guys like Aidan! ...And don't mind me ushering in a new OC...?

Yes, no? I hope not, because Evelyn will need Aidan... AND YES, I know their names kind of rhyme... I'm not too happy about that...

But I don't care! I fell in love with the idea of Aidan so no takesie backsies. : /

He's here to stay.

BUT PRETTY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! ABOUT WHICH PARTS YOU LIKED, WHICH ONES YOU DIDN'T. THEY REALLY MEAN QUITE A BIT TO ME! AND I LOVE HEARING FROM MY READERS.

YES, ALL OF YOU!

Many, many, heartfelt thanks to Sweet Little Nightmares, Heyepic, Verbal Rape, Phoenix12, and x3 Samantha for leaving me the best hella long reviews that I could ever ask for!

And to all of my other readers who were so wonderful to leave me reviews. They thoroughly make my day.

And all the PM's my readers give me are FANTASTIC. I adore them and they are thoroughly appreciated!

08/18/2008 Edited by Miss Button Madder, corrected by .Verbal.Rape.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 08 – Even it Up

The Clown Prince of Crime actually _cackled_ as he watched the boy try to run and be careful at the same time, waiting until he disappeared in the news station's revolving doors before ordering his kiddie kidnapper van to its next destination.

He thrummed his gloved fingers together in a mix of delight and impatience before digging under his seat for his detonator. The simple mechanical tool was a marvel in his own mind.

It was one of the few things that made his dark little heart go 'pitter pat' and swell with OBSCENE delight.

Right here, in his hands, laid such a seemingly _inconspicuous_ creation that it could even be mistaken for something that belonged at a sixth grade science convention.

It was just a plain metal box the size of a laptop with a duct taped back, safety switch, 25 single inch levers, and most importantly, the detonation button.

He had chosen a red one for this operation. It had been the finishing touch.

But this device, this simplistic work of wires, metal, duct tape, plastic, and radio signal emitters, was devastatingly _deadly_. It always amazed him how innocent some bomb remotes looked, almost like something you would see off of Star Trek, and how most civilians couldn't recognize them if they found their kid toying around with one he had left about.

After it had been used of course. Like he would let some brat steal his happy?

Yeah _right_.

He pulled off a glove and shoved it inside his pocket before he let the pad of his right pointer finger trace around the many levers and buttons carefully.

It simply wouldn't do if he accidentally set off his show without the citizens of Gotham seeing his B Rated Movie Production that he had directed specifically to get everyone's blood pumping for the main event.

The Joker wanted to the public outcry to be as loud as his own.

Of course, for the Joker, his own outcry was going to be _oodles_ more _enjoyable_.

The van crept up in front of RadioShack just in time. One of his henchmen worked there part-time, and had kept the televisions in the store window display on the news channel, as per his orders.

The henchman didn't want to know what the Joker had _in store_ for him if he hadn't.

He checked his cell phone, watching as the digital numbers changed from 10:59 to 11:00.

Like clockwork, the contents of the tape he had shoved into the boy's hands started to play on the plasmas for sale.

The silly boy. He hadn't been lying about how quickly he had devised the bomb he had strapped to his small chest, and it was indeed, _volatile_. But...

He didn't quite have time to sync the bomb's frequency with a remote control... So...

It was...in a manner of speaking... harmless.

It's not like he really needed to sync the bomb anyway. When children were threatened, demands tended to be met.

And now, he was one step closer to paying back the mayor, _and_ getting to see his fireworks.

_Who knew I could be so productive?_

Curious to see what his tape looked like, it wasn't as if he had proofed it, he turned his attention towards the plasma screens, idly wondering how good he looked on television.

Beautiful. It was simply beautiful, the Joker thought as he watched his little 'home movie' on the fifty inch 1080i screen.

With that kind of high definition, what more could people want?

* * *

There were times when Bruce Wayne wished that his guesses were always right or that he had been born with the ability to foresee events before they happened. With his influence and wealth, and drive to protect the innocent...

...He decided that he could sure as Hell use it.

This was one of those times.

And it was duly reinforced when Alfred called his private cell phone, signaling a code red emergency.

Unfortunately for _everyone_, Bruce Wayne had been gone from Gotham. Both the one he attended to in daylight hours, and the one he guarded at night.

However much he hated it, his day job demanded papers to be signed.

Which was where he was now, eying the tower that had risen up from his desk without Lucius Fox there to save him the hassle of sorting through them for what he would approve, and would not.

And that trail of thought had just been interrupted.

He answered his cell phone, and held it up to his ear, listening to Alfred's urgent voice.

"Master Wayne, channel 19, quickly."

Luckily for both of them, the newscasters had introduced the video in a rush before airing it, giving Alfred enough time to draw his master's attention to where it was now needed.

Bruce Wayne pressed a button on his desk, and his office television blared to life, already on the news channel.

"-od morning citizens of our fair city!" the Joker greeted mockingly, his hunching figure waving at the camera.

Unlike his first camera session, it seemed he had more experience under his belt, and had found something to keep the camera steady, and a good seven feet away.

The face on Bruce's television turned sour, as if the Joker had remembered something.

"Oh, and you too _Mayor_," he added before crossing his arms, giving the camera a thoughtful look as he nodded, "Nope, can't forget about you now, can I..." He let a finger tap against the side of his mouth for a few moments, then stopped.

He nodded again, shaking his finger now at the camera, "You know, I was taken by _quite the amount_ of surprise yesterday."

The Joker winced, and sucked air in through his teeth, admitting as his hands gestured along to his words and he shook his shoulders, "What can I say? Ya got me."

Then he burst into laughter and managed to get out between laughs, "Though- I suppose- I should- say..."

The laughter stopped, and he walked towards the camera, tilting his head in warning as his voice became devoid of amusement, "You _could have_ got me."

He shook his head, sighing as he did so, "I'm honestly kind of disappointed in you though, I mean," he gestured about wildly, "For as much as you GUSH about your city, about how PROUD you are of it and it's UPSTANDING citizens..."

He paused and put his hands on his hips, reprimanding, "You sure didn't take them into account, now did you?"

He started to violently jump up and down in delight, clapping his hands together as he did so, "I mean _come on_! How _priceless_ is _that_!? The very people that you were sworn to protect, protected someone like _me_?"

He shook his head in awe, pushing his dyed curls back as he did so and hissed, "I bet that is really _eating you all up inside_, isn't it, Mayor?"

He laid a hand on his heart, "And I do hope you know that for right _now_, I am thoroughly enjoying your _misery_."

He suddenly giggled, and looked at the camera guiltily, "But not as much as I'm going to enjoy what's to come.

"You see," he explained, his tongue flickering over the paint on his mouth as he purred, "Though my ego is positively _thrilled_ that you have thrown the safety of your citizens to the side, ignoring them completely under the guise of your _courrrrrageous_ intentions to shoot me down in the middle of a busy street, bustling with the lives of _innocents_ to eliminate the threat to your lovely Gotham..."

He pursed his lips, and ghosted a finger over his scars as he chided, "I am not amused. I know this _painted_ and razor kissed _smile_ might throw someone as single-minded as you off, _Mayor_, but let _me_ tell _you_... Assure you...

"I am _not_ amused."

The Joker brought out his knife, the camera catching its movements with a gleam as he started twirling it around his glove clad fingers, "You see, _I_ want to take all of Gotham's little casualties under _my_ name. _I_ want to be credited to her body count, by any direct, or indirect, means.

"And it kind of upsets me that it almost seems as if you're trying to take my job," he pointed to himself with his free hand, his dark eyes widening, "I mean, ME, _I_ am the one that's supposed to blow your citizens straight to Hell.

"Not you silly," he said, laughing at the camera as he moved to pick it up, turning it to the left, where what looked to be a homeless man tied to the chair, gagged.

The Joker skipped into view in a blur of purple coat tails and stopped right beside the gagged man, patting him on his bushy head, "This is Roger."

The Joker bit his lip and in an apologizing manner said, "You'll have to excuse him, he can't really say hello."

The razor kissed man motioned to his own mouth and explained after clearing his throat, "His, mouth, it's full. Terrible manners I know. I'm sure it's why he's not the most popular guy around if you know what I mean."

He brought up a hand to 'shield' his words from Roger and winced dramatically as he whispered, "Really, _between you and me,_ I don't think he'll be missed."

Roger, clearly hearing him, started to shake and whimper as best he could against his binds.

Bruce Wayne, in his office, cursed explicitly, knowing that from the lack of LIVE TV logo on his television screen, that this 'production' had already been filmed, and that there was no way to save the man on the screen.

Angrily he watched as the Joker skipped back to the camera, ignoring the mewling protests of his hostage, and in a few shaky movements, brought the camera's line of sight to a 'happy clown' masked thug sporting a semi automatic rifle.

Bruce Wayne gritted his teeth at the sight. He didn't need the power to read the future to know where this was going.

The Joker's voice was heard off camera as he introduced the new actor in his show.

"This is Bobo.

"He's...one of my _guys_..." he explained, saying the last word as if he was testing it out.

The Joker cleared his throat and gestured with a hand that could be seen to the side of the camera, "Go on Bobo, don't get all camera shy on me now, you don't even have any lines, just act, you're a _natural_."

Needing no more incentive, Bobo shrugged, took aim, and let a bullet fly into Roger's heart.

On televisions throughout Gotham, viewers watched a spurt of blood and tiny bits of flesh erupt from Roger's fatal wound, before the surrounding area blossomed into a dark red stain on the homeless man's filthy clothes.

"Aaaaaaand cut," the Joker laughed slowly, twisting the camera awkwardly so that he could hold it and talk into it at the same time.

"Ya' see, Mayor, Bobo's one of my _guys_... So, if he kills someone at my request, _I_ can take credit for it.

"But the same applies to _you_. If one of your S.W.A.T. _guys_ had happened to kill the good citizen that pushed me out of the laser sight's way while I was disguised as any ol' _normal_ security _officer_..."

He awkwardly held the camera in one hand so that he could bring up his finger to tap the screen, reinforcing his words, "YOU would have taken the credit for that little bit of murder and mayhem, and I can't have anyone crapping on my notorious rep. I want ALL of Gotham's FEAR, and I _don't_ want _to_ share _it_ with _you_."

His other hand returned to hold the camera, and the Joker pursed his lips and rolled his eyes as he declared, "I was never fond of the idea of sharing as a child, and now that I'm all grown up, I must be quite honest and say that it _still_ doesn't do _anything_ for me."

He suddenly laughed, his smile gruesome at the closeness of the camera angle, "But I digress.

"I'm just going to have to punish you for royally screwing things up. I mean, well, I _imagine_ at least, that Gotham's pretty pissed. I can only guess how many of its inhabitants are upset," he enunciated that bit with a shake to the camera, "That they can't _trust_ you."

The Joker set the recording device back down where it had been, and backed up into view again, now rubbing his hands together.

"I didn't quite think it would be fitting if I punished such _good citizens_ for what YOU did, especially after one of them so _ironically_ one-upped you on doing," the Joker inserted quotation marks with his fingers, "The 'right thing' and all that jazz." he finished with another roll of the eyes.

Bruce Wayne was at odds with what the Joker had just said. He partly agreed with the madman. The mayor should NOT have endangered the lives of his citizens by launching an attack on the Joker on a busy and overly crowded city street. It was simply too dangerous. And Batman was angry at how the Mayor had let his emotions get the best of him and had resorted to such an extreme. Of course he didn't think he deserved anything the likes of the Joker had in mind for retribution.

He sighed. Too many people could have wound up getting hurt or killed by such an adolescent scheme. And to his knowledge, he didn't know if the mysterious woman who had saved the Joker was _either_.

In a morbid way he was glad of it. Not knowing meant that he couldn't yet add her to his accumulating guilt.

However, it was a pity that such a seemingly normal person could be dead for standing up for what was right and trying to save someone's life.

On screen, the Joker suddenly grumbled, and crossed his arms, staring into the camera with a mix of extreme agitation and subtle glee that he reserved for one person and one person alone, "OH DO _SHUT UP_ BATMAN.

"I know you're watching this and getting your rocks off to the fact that people are actually _saving lives_ and _doing good_ without hockey masks and pump action shotguns, but listen here before your 'Holier-Than-Thou' attitude clogs up that thick head of yours so much that you won't hear my next little jab to you and your," his face suddenly became stern, "serious _mass_ of White Knight ideals."

The Joker chuckled, and winked at the camera, "_So..._

"_Batman..." _he giggled_._

"How's your search for your good little citizen going?"

He drawled on, a knowing and mocking smile on his face as he practically sang his pleasure, "Because, I'm willing to bet my last barrel of gunpowder that it's not going over to your _li-king_."

The Joker let his curiosity shine through his painted and scarred face as he wondered aloud to the camera. "And where have you been? Things aren't as much fun without you flapping about around town," he finished, his hands twisting together to make a 'bat' flying 'about.'

"And how come you weren't able to save the girl?" the painted villain asked the camera seriously-

-before he discarded that emotion and picked up nonchalance with the raise of a brow and shrug of one shoulder, " ...not that you could now."

The Batman part of Bruce Wayne bit the inside of his cheek. _Does that mean she's dead? Or is he toying with me, trying to throw me off of her? And if so, why? _

The Clown Prince of Crime laughed and winked at the camera, "You should be honored I've taken such a liking to you Batty-Boy. You even made me lose my train of thought...

"And it was going somewhere..."

Bruce Wayne, in the public of his office, resisted the urge to throw his stapler at the television across the room, his cast iron will rationalizing that it would do the girl, whoever she was, no good.

...But it would make him feel better if he ripped the television off of his wall and beat the little 'joker' with it.

On aforementioned television, the Joker burst into unadulterated laughter and Bruce Wayne knew why.

The happy bastard was picturing him watching his little tape. _Only_ the Joker could so _effectively_ dig his way under his skin, and the bastard knew it.

"Oh, oh yeah," he wheezed out between barks of laughter, "I remember now. I was just about to start the show."

The Joker moaned appreciatively at the impending 'fireworks' Bruce Wayne knew was coming.

"I _love_ my job," he sighed contentedly before turning back to the camera, walking over to it and snatching it up once more, "But tell me, Gotham S.W.A.T., do you love _yours_?

"Cause I'm just getting _warmed up_."

The tape ended in a trademark fit of maniacal laughter.

The disturbing sound still lingered in Bruce Wayne's ears...

...and he could still faintly hear it in the background when the bombs started to explode.

* * *

The Joker had chosen his 'hiding spot' for three main reasons.

One, it offered him a view of a television that would alert him when to start the explosions, for dramatic effect, of course.

Two, three out of the twenty five S.W.A.T. members lived on this street, and it would give him a perfect view of their houses being blown to smithereens.

And three, two of those three were right next to each other.

Which would mean the biggest explosion and viewable amount of destruction and ensuing chaos.

When the tape started, he pulled the driver out of his seat with a whispered threat and a firm hold on his greasy hair.

He wanted the best seat, and _no one _felt the need to argue.

There were no cars parked in front of his trademark van, and from where he was sitting, he had a decent view of RadioShack's prized plasma as well.

He shivered in delight, and feeling it travel down his spine, he curled his toes in his brown leather shoes in response, unconsciously curling his fingers around the detonator he held in his hands too.

The Joker's eyes glittered in anticipation, wanting to _see_ people panic as the explosion blasted red-orange in the clear blue-gray sky, wanting to _hear_ the rising screams of people clutched in the throes of terror, and wanting to _feel_ the tremors that HIS bomb was going to make as it exploded in a mix of fire, glass, and concrete.

But then again, who didn't like explosions? If they weren't so damned cool, they wouldn't be in so many movies. Everyone liked explosions. They just didn't like them when they weren't in control.

The Joker liked them irregardless. He could care less if people started randomly blowing shit up. Of course, he would mourn the fact that he didn't get to push the button, but, for the sake of explosions, he could deal with it without too much of a fuss.

As long as he was there to see it, pandemonium, chaos, and destruction were as enjoyable to him as Disneyland was for others.

And with one eye on the plasma, he knew his Wonderland Teacup Ride was about to be full swing ahead.

The Joker inched his seat back, just enough so that he could properly lay his doomsday device on top of his lap, and took off his other glove, stuffing it into his pocket with its matching pair. He cracked the bones in his finger after he laced them together, then pushed them away, erupting a chorus of cracking knuckles.

He let his fingers dance in the air over his toy for a moment, before resting them into place.

He could already feel the adrenaline pumping in his system.

As marvelous as explosions were, they were sure as hell dangerous. He could _guess_ which distance would be safe enough to give him a front row seat without becoming a part in the festivities, but, it wasn't like he was an expert.

He was a 'play it by ear' kind of guy, and the fact that one explosion might finally kill him _excited_ him. It was like dancing with death. And he did it with a smile on his face.

Of course that didn't mean he wouldn't get the _hell_ _out_ of _there_ if a great big chunk of debris was flying his way. Running was exciting _too_, each step a victory dance.

Suddenly, he remembered the plasma, and tore his dark eyes away from his toy long enough to glance at the news, which was nearing the end of his bloody broadcast.

He laughed, singing as he began to countdown on a slightly raised hand.

"_One_ for the money,

"_Two_ for the show,

"_Three_ to get ready,"

He watched the screen fade to snow and smiled from ear to ear.

"And four to-

"_GO_."

Like a concert piano player his fingers flew over the keys, turning off the safety, and twisting down each lever, followed by a stoke to his shiny little red detonation button.

There were twenty-five strokes in all. And because he had practiced the motion of setting off all the charges earlier the day before, he didn't even need to look at his hands.

They knew where to go, thus freeing his glittering eyes to gaze with rapt attention at the explosions now dancing down the street in a waltz of fire, screams, and flying debris.

The two houses that were side by side, obliterated each other with resonating blasts, taking small chunks out of the buildings they were previously neighbor to. They reddish orange blast of light spilled out of each home's windows and blew open the doors with such resounding force, that they flew across the street, one hitting a car, another crashing into a startled bike rider.

Tiny shards of glass rained from the sky with the tiny bits of debris, looking much like snowflakes the Joker mused, followed by a hail of concrete.

As the homes slowly collapsed in upon themselves, the real screaming began.

The symphony of fear.

And he was the conductor.

He slid on his gloves again, and began to mimic one, his hands seemingly pulling forth screams as the shock the destruction he had inflicted left the citizens of Gotham, and they began to respond to the chaos as all average citizens seemed to do.

With screams.

They always started off shakily at first, as if in disbelief, before realization hit them as hard as the tremors that had coursed beneath their feet. Then they shaky screams rose louder as the victims took in the destruction and death. The mournful cries were the climax. Cutting through the air with crescendo like a knife for the piercing screams that they were.

_That_ was how the Joker knew there was love in the world. The emotional force behind those screams were like no other. Not just _everyone_ screamed like that. Not everyone cared enough about other people to love anyone but themselves.

But as he watched a woman that had been closer to the destruction than he had deemed necessary for himself to be, kneeling over a man that had half of his face caved in from impacting head on with a flying particle of concrete...

...he heard her wail and instantly knew that she had loved him with all of her heart. It rose above the surrounding screams and his hands mimicked her pain, rising to the roof of the van as her voice escalated in her own soul crushing agony.

When it stopped to give way to shaking sobs, he shuddered once more at how beautiful it was.

Why put forth that same effort to only one person, when he could experience such raw emotion like this with so many?

There was nothing quite like chaos.

And it had been just the way he had wanted to start his day.

Oh, he couldn't wait to see Evie. She would be the perfect person to spend the end of his perfect day with. He could derive amusement from her for hours.

It was probably for the best that he stayed indoors...

Batman was going to be _pissed_.

But not as pissed as the citizens of Gotham would be. The Joker grinned evilly.

_No. After my little tape they'll be just as angry at their beloved Mayor for putting their lives at risk, as the Batman will be angry at me, for, well, _everything_ I do I suppose_.

The Joker knew that Batman would catch on to his underlying subliminal message that he had weaved into his movie production:

Your mayor has put your lives at risk. One person is already missing do to his schemes. How many other citizens could be next? You? Your children? Your family and friends?

Some people could be so _malleable_. Then again, it wasn't rocket science to twist people into his way of thinking. All it took was a little push. Or...a little public broadcasting.

The Joker guesstimated that within the hour the mayor was going to be surrounded by mobs of angry citizens.

_Take that you little prat_.

Yes, tonight would be a great night to spend indoors. He wouldn't be needing to pull any overtime today. He did have some things to check up on before nine 'o clock though. Utilities to pay for, bribes to be paid, people to recruit, henchmen to kick, more bombs to _acquire_, by any means necessary _of course_.

The screaming sirens of firetrucks and emergency response vehicles tore through his thoughts, and he started the van.

For the hell of it, he buckled his seat belt and used his blinker to make an illegal U turn. No one noticed, or cared, as he sped past the oncoming police, firetrucks, and ambulances, a wicked smile on his wickedly scarred face.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter isn't that good. I think I wrote too much of it over a long period of time and now I don't think I did a good enough job with how it flows. I think I need to go see TDK again to remember all the little things that made up our favorite Joker. I think that's what I'm going to do. Sorry this chapter's so late. Work and real life are hella-gay with the list of things I need to get done soon. I hope you guys don't mind how late this is. I have Monday and Tuesday off so I'll try and make up for my lack of timely updates.

And don't worry, there will be Joker and Evelyn interaction soon! Hope I didn't disappoint too many of you with this chapter, again, really sorry.

Insert sweatdrop

I wanted to get this up before midnight, and yeah, I know I cut it a little too close...

08/18/2008 Edited by Miss Button Madder, Corrected by .Verbal.Rape.


	9. Chapter 9

Special AN: .Verbal.Rape. is now officially my Beta. She will be looking over my work (much like in her previous reviews, lol) and making it PERFECT. So, when you read this, keep in mind that she has fixed all of my weird grammar and the like, thus making my story reign supreme! Woot! THANK YOU VERBAL RAPE! Insert me bowing before her mad editing skills.

Chapter 9 - Break

A long hot bubble bath had been just what Evelyn had needed. A good scrubbing, shaving, shampooing, conditioning, and steamy hot water soak later, and she was feeling as good as new. Of course, she lamented that she couldn't shower with her arms still wounded, but the bath was a nice change of pace.

She had dumped a great deal of vanilla scented bubble bath into her jacuzzi tub, which fit nicely in the corner of her bathroom. The faucet it had come with had been rather drab, so she had someone from Home Depot install one that made water pour into the tub in an aquatic fan, almost like a fountain, creating a streaming wall of water six inches in length. Though the tub was inexpensive, it made it look much nicer.

Her private bathroom was done in dark plum purples and decorated with dark violet rugs against a lavender tiled floor, and matched her dark violet counter tops, both courtesy of Home Depot. There was a large stand up shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom, and Evelyn had airbrushed the glass of it with a very light coating of lavender glitter to add a shimmer of color to the otherwise plain frosted glass. A matching floor to ceiling frosted glass bathroom shelving unit that she had also purchased from Home Depot lay to left of the shower, and housed at the bottom a laundry basket, and on top, a row of shelves for hand towels, towels, and bath towels.

Her medicine cabinet was hidden behind the mirror above her sink, and Evelyn headed there after her deep cleansing ritual, clad in a dark plum purple robe that matched her bathroom theme. Quickly, she opened the hideaway cabinet and went straight for her birth control pills.

Evelyn had them for one major reason.

Gotham was a bad place. And sooner or later, everyone found that out on a _personal_ level. And whereas she was afraid of intimacy, she was more afraid of getting raped by someone who wouldn't bother to use any form of birth control.

Withal, Evelyn took preventative steps herself, by carrying her ASP with her at all times, but, she was hardly invincible. And it was better to be safe than sorry. She had met a rape survivor, and the girl had said that if she hadn't of been on birth control, she would have gotten pregnant, like some of the other rape survivors at the meetings she went to.

After that encounter, Evelyn chose to go to her local OBGYN immediately.

Luck had never been something she was keen to. But she knew when not to push it.

And now... Well...

_Better to be safe than sorry_.

She took the pill, just like she had yesterday, and the day before that, then brushed her teeth.

Finished, she pushed up the billowy sleeves of her robe and took out her first aid kid. She had gently cleaned out the slight wounds in the tub, and now she applied her antiseptic spray, followed by Neosporin, and then some gauze coupled with white medical tape to her right arm.

Her left arm, which had the small chunk of flesh missing, required a bit more finesse and teeth biting. She stared hard at the can of antiseptic spray in her right hand, then looked to her wound.

She bit her lip, posed, then after managing a bit of courage, sprayed.

It burned like a bitch.

Arm waving followed, as well as _minor_ obscenities, because she had been expecting it. When the burning turned cool, she glared at her wound, scrutinizing it. It would probably leave a barely noticeable scar. Nothing dramatic. She knew the skin would heal just fine, but would leave a slightly lighter skin tone. No one would notice unless they got up close and personal. And Evelyn wasn't the type to let people get up close and personal.

Nevertheless... No matter how unobtrusive it would be...

Scars.

Why was she complaining? Hers would still be much less noticeable than The Joker's.

_Now you'll have something to _always_ remember him by_.

Angry at the way her mind worked, she applied the Neosporin with more force than necessary, and frowned while she applied the bandage.

Scars told a story. What soon to be memories would she come to associate it with?

_Well, Evelyn, they sure aren't going to be anything pleasant unless you get your rear in gear_.

Evelyn did have some 'work' to do today. And convincing her boss that she was going to quit without a two week's notice was going to require some creative thinking. Her 'boss', though she could hardly be called that, was more of a co-worker than a supervisor.

--Bandaged, she moved to her walk-in closet, eying its contents, and tried to decide what to wear.--

They had worked together for four years at the Gotham Public Library. Evelyn handled the library's finances as their accountant. She managed the library's funds and disbursed money accordingly. The position would have taken many more years to attain if not for Alexandria Mason.

Mrs. Mason was matron of the library, and widow to the late Phillip Mason who's ancestors had raised the establishment in the early nineteen hundreds. Phillip Mason had died twenty-six years prior in a car accident, killed by a drunk driver, leaving a thirty-nine year old Mrs. Mason lonely, albeit well provided for, for the rest of her life.

--Evelyn's hazel eyes finally picked out a set of clothes, then turned her eyes to find a pair of shoes to match them.--

Unfortunately for Alexandria Mason, their only child had been in the car as well, twenty-one year old Brian Mason, who was 'alive' when paramedics arrived, however, tragically brain dead due to massive blunt force trauma from the head on collision.

Despite the terrible hand Alexandria Rose Mason had been dealt, she was a cheery, strong-willed, and commanding woman, and handled the Gotham Public Library with prim efficiency and jolly English pride and wit. She was the library authority and troublemaker. She gossiped and giggled and had pulled many practical pranks without anyone being the wiser.

--She found a pair of shoes, and with her visible clothes picked, she opened the drawers in her closet to pick out her knickers.--

Except Evelyn of course. Which was one of the main reasons why Alexandria Mason had taken such a liking to her. She wasn't very nice and polite to most, but after only a few months, she was nice and polite to Evelyn at least. It was easy to forget that Mrs. Mason wasn't as 'agreeable' to others, because Evelyn treated casual stupidity just as bluntly as Mrs. Mason. Therefore, in Evelyn's eyes, she wasn't rude at all.

She was the 'old lady' Evelyn discussed books with over lunch. They got along "smashingly" as Mrs. Mason put it, but nonetheless, Evelyn kept the woman at an arms length, their 'friendship' strictly work friendly and a polite social affair.

--With her armload of clothes, she made her way to her bed, and let them fall onto her midnight blue comforter.--

Since they had first met at the library's 100th anniversary, Mrs. Mason had liked Evelyn's sharp tongue and her not so subtle way of shutting "dunderheads" down. The elderly lady had been amused countlessly by the many times she had seen Evelyn dismiss library goers who owed outstanding fines, boyish co-workers asking for dates, and addle brained employees who didn't think that being paid to do work entitled one to actually have to _work_.

Mrs. Alexandria Mason was the only 'loose end' that might come looking for her should she disappear. And Evelyn liked the lady too much to let her wander anywhere near the danger that The Joker lived and breathed.

--Evelyn unwound the tie on her robe and laid it on the bed, turning her attention to dressing as she slipped on each article of clothing.--

She was too old, too fragile... And above all, Evelyn did not want to even think about a world without her.

No.

--She dressed quickly, and tugged on a pair of black and gray lace matching knickers, a calf length sapphire blue skirt that flared out, a button up black elbow length shirt, and a matching blue vest on top of her ensemble. She forewent the stockings as she usually did (hating how they felt in general), and put on some black closed toe dress shoes with a solid three inch heel that offered no space between the heel and the shoe, giving sturdier support to the wearer. She needed all she could get.--

Evelyn had no doubt that The Joker would kill Mrs. Mason if she raised a fuss and drew to the police's notice that Evelyn had disappeared.

All she had to do was make Mrs. Mason believe that she was leaving Gotham. She wouldn't be going anywhere, but the woman didn't know anything more about her. Her paycheck did not go through a direct deposit, so she wouldn't have her account numbers, and she could keep her bank account open without worry, at least until The Joker gave her further instructions.

--Evelyn went back into the bathroom to gaze into the mirror, hoping it would offer assistance in helping her decide how to wear her hair for the day. Her hair was still damp, so she applied some mousse and hair cream to it, teasing the product through her tresses to define her natural curls. Yesterday she had blow dried and straightened it a bit to accentuate the layers, but today she would settle for curls. ...she hoped The Joker wouldn't mind.--

She would have her address, but there would be no reason for Mrs. Mason to _visit_ her. She had never done so before.

And she could leave Mrs. Mason her e-mail address to appease her. To let her know everything was quite alright. Mrs. Mason would appreciate that. And she could speak to her through web cam if Mrs. Mason wished for that as well, but she didn't think that would be necessary. That would be... too helpful. And inconvenient for Evelyn should she look unpresentable if The Joker happened to knock her about and leave bruises. And that was _always_ a possibility.

--Evelyn gave her hair a good shake, tucking in a few tendrils here and there before reaching for her base on her counter, where her make-up was lined up against the wall. She applied the mineral powder, followed by her eyeliner. She accented her eyes with blue, shadowed them with some light brown, then dusted them off with a creamy pale gold, blending them artfully together. The mascara followed, and after second thoughts, she went ahead and applied a pale frosty peach to her lips. It was just light enough to add a bit of color, but not stand out.--

What was she going to say? She needed to base it on _some_ truth.

Gotham was getting too dangerous. She simply couldn't stay here if she wished to stay alive.

--Evelyn pursed her lips, brows furrowing in thought at the idea.--

Yes. She could say that she had seen The Joker and his men shoot it out on the street.

She would just leave out a few details, like, just _how far away_ she had been when she had seen it.

--Her fingernails started a staccato beat against her counter.--

That might work. People took drastic measures when they suddenly realized the danger they could be in.

And she would say that she would return to Gotham when The Joker had been captured! Her life had almost been put on the line with the whole street shoot out. Excellent...

--The furrow of her brow started to smooth, and her lips started to slacken from their thoughtful pucker.--

If Mrs. Mason would take her back after her extended leave, then, that would be wonderful. If not, she would _completely_ understand.

And now Evelyn had a plan. She was pleased. It would take a delicate touch to pull it off, but Mrs. Mason knew that she was a 'no nonsense' kind of person, and if she was seriously fed up with risking her life by continuing to live in a city where a man with a Glasgow Grin was blowing shit up and the police were having shootouts in the street during broad daylight...

...then Mrs. Mason would understand if she waited for the 'ruckus' to settle down before returning to her post at the Gotham Public Library.

Evelyn paused for a moment, and in her silence, took a good long look in the mirror.

What was she going to look like when this was over? Would it _ever_ be over? How was she going to do this?

**Destiny is not a matter of chance, but a matter of choice.**

The actions that she chose from here on out would make up her fate, her character, and everything that made her who she was.

She wasn't going to let Mrs. Mason endanger herself on her behalf. That would be entirely unbecoming and incredibly selfish.

Her upcoming performance was going to be nothing less than spectacular.

Evelyn gave herself a steely look, grim determination hard in her hazel eyes.

Alexandria Rose Mason deserved it.

She pushed away from the counter and traversed to her closet to dig out a matching blue purse.

It was a small one, and picking up her purse from where she had left on the floor by her bedroom door, she rifled through its contents, picking out the bare necessities to fit into the smaller bag. She unplugged her cell phone from the charger she had plugged it into before her soak in the tub, and stuck it in there too before swinging it on her shoulder. She was careful to avoid her bandaged arms, and the gentle way she treated them jogged her memory of a minor detail.

She couldn't let Mrs. Mason see _those_.

No matter, the brisk weather of mid-October in Gotham allowed her to deign a jacket and still look casual. She returned to her closet to pull out a thin jacket. It came down to below her hips, was done in very thin blue, black, and gray pinstripes, and buttoned down the left side of her chest. She put it on, deciding to leave it open, and unbuttoned the bottom of the sleeves, which came down to the start of where her thumbs sprung from her hands. The coat was multicolored, but the blue of her skirt brought out the blue in the coat, making it seem predominantly blue.

Now that Evelyn's current status was refreshed and dressed, she made her way downstairs, an armload of dirty clothes in one hand, her purse in the other.

She made a beeline for the utility room and threw her clothes in the washer before starting it. Her trip wouldn't take too long, hopefully.

Evelyn poked her head out of the utility room, remembering Aidan now that her clothes had been taken care of, and looked about to see if the first floor of her home was in ruins.

Thankfully it wasn't, so she ventured forth to see what damage the teenager had wreaked on her kitchen, since she couldn't see it from the angle she was at.

She hadn't gone very far when Evelyn realized the boy had fallen asleep on her sofa, next to the remains of an enormous Tupperware bowl of cereal, a half empty glass of orange juice, a partially eaten pear, and a paper towel that looked like it had once held toast and jam.

Evelyn took his trash and dishes to the kitchen, disposing of the garbage and rinsing his eating utensils before placing them in the dishwasher and gently waking her 'chauffeur' with a quick hair ruffle.

He opened one bright green eye lazily, apparently trying to focus, and without standing, stretched out his long limbs on the couch, arching his back against the cushions of the sofa, and yawning loudly as he did so.

Aidan tore himself from his makeshift bed, then stretched once more, this time towards the ceiling, mumbling to a point where she could barely understand, "Finally. All dolled up?"

She wondered at how ironic his choice of words had been, and then nodded, trying not to roll her eyes. Evelyn glanced at the clock on her wall and complained, "You act like I've been in the bathroom for _hours_."

The teenager deadpanned her a look, then pointed to the clock that she had drawn his attention to.

Incredulously, he stated, "You've been in there for an hour and a half! It's ten thirty now! I've been growing old out here!"

Miffed, Evelyn flipped her hair over her shoulder and replied, "Obviously to the point of senility if you think that I'm not going to pamper myself to a bath and do some serious impromptu creative thinking before I rush to my work and quit spot of the notice, without any explanation. I'm a _sensible_ person thank you very much. And my boss _knows_ this."

Aidan roughed up his hair as he scratched his head, "Is that what you're supposed to be doing?"

Evelyn nodded again, "Yes, since The Joker has decided to keep me as his new 'Doll' and whatnot, he instructed me to 'tie up any loose ends' that might come looking for me.

"Unless, I _suppose_, I don't like them and..." she cleared her throat, "want them to die, or _something_ along those lines."

The boy frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together, and he asked bluntly, "Why is he so _interested_ in you?"

She didn't know what to say to that.

And it showed as she struggled to find an answer to Aidan's seemingly innocuous question.

"Well, I, don't really _know_. I saved his life yesterday when the S.W.A.T. tried to ambush him. He kidnapped me when I tried to run away, and well, I've..."

Evelyn blushed, trying to continue, "Kind of bargained my life with food, back rubs, and my knowledge of first-aid."

Aidan raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Oh really? And you're _sure_ you're not giving him any bow chicka wow wow?"

He laughed raucously when she punched him in the shoulder and continued his boisterous bellows when she started to glare at him while her lips moved in quiet threats and curses.

When he was finished, he loosely clutched his sides and finally managing to control himself after a few minutes said, "Let me get this straight... The Joker's letting you live because you're this citizen that I've been hearing about all last night and this morning who saved his life? _And_ because you offered your services to him as his own little personal slave, minus the hanky panky?"

Evelyn looked away, not entirely pleased with his summary, and admitted, "I've kind of been dancing my way around the hanky panky bit, but, there won't be a lot I can do if he demands it. It's not like I can say no." She finished her response with a scowl, not happy about her predicament at all.

Aidan clapped a hand on her shoulder in sympathy, "Sucks to be you. I'm pretty sure he's going to be a _fuhhh-reeeeeak_ in bed. _Totally_ into that twisted sadomasochism shit if you know what I mean." He nudged her with his elbow and winked as he said the last bit.

"Wow," Evelyn said sarcastically, "With those comforting reassurances now in my mind, what else could I possibly add to my growing list of concerns? Would you like to tell me any more good news?"

He snorted and patted her head, "Aww, but you are kinda cute when you get all flustered. I'm sure you'll be fine." He cast a look to her book shelf, which took up most of the entire living room wall and commented, "Smart people like you can always find a way around things. And if the size of your library is any indication to your intelligence, I'm sure you'll find _plenty_ of ways to keep our maniacal boss at bay."

The young woman ignored the pats, her thoughts drifting to the man that she had heard The Joker kill in his apartment.

"I sure hope so Aidan. There's more than just 'bow chicka wow wow' on the line," she said quietly.

The smile that had been on his youthful face a moment ago disappeared quickly at her tone. He looked down at Evelyn, whose slight frame seemed even smaller as she hugged her arms closer to herself, and the boy sighed unhappily.

"I know what you mean Evelyn, I _know_ what you mean."

She didn't argue.

But she did when he started to shove her towards the kitchen.

"What-do-you-think-you're-doing?!" she yelled quietly at him in a rush, concerned at how easily he was moving her against her will.

Aidan shoved her towards the kitchen, both hands firm on her dainty shoulders, he chided, "I have a feeling you haven't eaten in a while. And I want you to hurry so that we can go _do_ something. This is incredibly boring. You don't even have a TV. You clearly must not be American."

Evelyn half heartedly struggled against him, putting up a fight because at least with Aidan she could get away with it.

Maybe a granola bar wouldn't be too bad...

Aidan watched her grab one out of her pantry, and rolled his eyes dramatically, "You girls and your chick food." He snatched the package out of her hand and held it up above her head, shaking it to emphasize his words, "This is not _real_ food, _you_ are not an astronaut, there is no reason why you should be eating this condensed and disappointing _appetizer_."

Evelyn's mouth dropped slightly at the teenager's audacity. No one had ever! Her hands went reflexively to her hips and she hissed, "You are not the boss of me!" She then promptly turned back to the pantry and retrieved another granola bar, her eyes _daring_ him to try and take it from her as she unwrapped it slowly and took a leisurely bite.

He was acting like they were the best of friends. This arrogant little boy was 'playing' with her! She didn't even know this kid! Who did he think he was, joking about and mocking her like they'd been pals since the dawn of time.

And how was he doing it so effortlessly?

"Maybe," she said after she swallowed, "I wanted to eat something light to save my appetite for whatever I decide to make you later. Or maybe, I wanted something quick so that we could get a move on since you're so _incredibly_ bored. But since you're being so difficult, I don't think I'll be having the same thing as you... Wouldn't want to get _sick_ now would I?"

He threw up his hands in surrender and placed the granola bar on the counter, backing away as he did so. "_Easy_ killer. You want the granola bar, you can _have_ the granola bar. But please don't poison my food. I love food so much that I would just eat it anyway."

She sighed and waved it off, "I don't think that I'd go that far. Wouldn't want you to make a mess on my pretty floor."

"Ouch. That was cold Evelyn," Aidan said as he clutched his chest, "You wound me."

She chuckled at him and swept past towards the door, warning as she waved her granola bar about, "Seriously, if we don't get a move on I won't have time to make us some '_real food_' to eat. And I think I'll be making chicken teriyaki for lunch."

Aidan made it to the door before she did in a _skittering_ of leaps and bounds over her furniture. She stepped to the side to keep out of his way as he ambled towards the door at breakneck speed.

He slid on the floor before the door, then threw it open as he half slammed into it. Making sure to make a show of opening the door and bowing before her, he rumbled like a creepy doorman that belonged on the set of Rocky Horror, "After you my _dear_."

Evelyn walked carefully past him, not breaking her pace at all since he had raced to the door, and commented as she moved past, "I wonder what I could get you to do if I made your favorite?"

"I do believe you mean, 'What couldn't you get me to do?'" Aidan said with mock seriousness, "And by the way, my favorite's lasagna. Just FYI... You don't have to... Make it or... Anything."

Evelyn locked the door behind them and got in the car after he opened it for her, "I'll see what I can do. Good lasagna takes the better part of the day to make. But I'll keep it in mind for tomorrow, and I'll ask The Joker what he thinks about it tonight."

Aidan hopped in the car with a broad smile and practically gushed, "You're my _hero_."

* * *

**The font in bold is a quote from William Jennings Bryan, in case some of you have heard this before and were wondering where this came from. Because the fanfiction website does not believe in asterisks, I have been forced to use bold lettering instead. :P**

AN: JUST SO EVERYONE KNOWS. YESSSS, THE JOKER WILL BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. I just didn't have time to throw him in here. And I know it's been FOREVER since I've updated, so I wanted to at least show you guys _something_ for my lack of activity. Which I am greatly sorry for. And thanks to my weird work schedule, I'll have the next two days off, so I'll definitely have some stuff up. I'm really sorry about the lack of Joker in this chapter though. But there will be him and Evie time in chapter 10. DUN DUN DUN. Maybe bad news for Evie, good news for you guys?

And, out of curiosity, do you all want me to go in detail about Evie meeting with her boss, or just try and sum it up? I couldn't decide, so I ended the chapter before I got to that point. But YOU guys will be reading it, and since I write for you guyses' pleasure as well as mine own, I kind of want to know what you all want too occasionally.

So it would help if you let me know yeah? Please? I love you? I try and make sure I reply to every review I get, to personally thank you for your time because it means so much to me. But if for some reason I haven't replied to a review you have given me...

You let me know right now! Because I am hella sorry! And I don't want anyone to feel left out!

And, sorry for the long AN, I see it's gotten...long.

I'll go now.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Ahem, so, my readers mean a great deal to me. Which is why when Kayla Sparrow asked me to have up this chapter by Friday, for her birthday, I was a little flattered. Of course, I'm a little disappointed that I'm late, but, since she asked, here's Chapter 10, dedicated to Kayla Sparrow for her birthday, my present to you.

HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY KAYLA SPARROW!

Chapter 10 – Cook With Fire

Evelyn felt a rush of relief sweep through her with the first steps out of the Gotham Public Library and onto the panicking streets of Gotham. She ignored the chaos. Her own thoughts were too tumultuous to worry about others.

"_Good afternoon Mrs. Mason. I need to talk to you about something rather important, and incredibly unfortunate for myself. As loathe as I am to-"_

_A series of bombs abruptly exploded outside of Mrs. Mason's window, allowing both of its occupants to feel the tremors and hear the responding chorus of screams through the glass of her office. _

_Both women braced themselves in their chairs, and looked about expectantly as pictures on the walls rattled and a few of them fell. They waited as the bombs continued to sound, and after the fifteenth explosion, Mrs. Mason was quite put out._

"_This is ridiculous!" she yelled over the blasts, "How does that madman set up so many bombs without ANYONE NOTICING?" A few more rumbling blasts shook the library's foundations and Mrs. Mason slammed her dainty fist on her desk and continued her tirade, addressing with an English lilt who she would soon be in contact with, "Mister Gordon will be receiving an angry letter from me! I will not have some JOKER ruining the foundations of this establishment!"_

_'Establishment' was heard loudly as the bombs stopped sounding before she finished._

_Mrs. Mason did not let that bother her. She harrumphed with sound displeasure and smoothed down her jacket that matched her pale blue and cream colored pants suit, mumbling more to herself than to her employee as she took in the damage done to her office, "Oh bollocks, I'll have to ring Arthur to rehang that painting." _

_The painting she was referring to hung over her door, out of reach of both petite women._

_Evelyn bit back a smile and content with the seeming end to explosions said, "Well, as odd and disturbing as that was. I don't think our meeting could have been timed any better."_

_Mrs. Mason raised an elegant pale blond eyebrow and clasped her hands in her lap properly, but leaned forward, interested as she chided, "Whatever do you mean dear? Bombs are most certainly, never, appropriate for meetings. Especially between such two such lovely ladies as ourselves. And if we had been having tea, heaven forbid, those bombs could have ruined our perfectly sensible attire." She bowed her head slightly in stern consternation and said quietly, "And then, I would have been most upset."_

Evelyn smiled to herself and shook her head. If her life had continued without divagation, she was almost sure that in time, a good deal of time, that she would have found her first true (and normal) best friend in Alexandria Mason. She was firm, and strong, and could be trusted. And if one day Evelyn could bring herself to open up to a _normal_ human being... She knew that human being would have been Mrs. Mason.

_Evelyn schooled her face into a firmly polite smile, biting back a giggle at how ludicrous their meeting was going and continued, "Allow me to clarify Mrs. Mason." _

_Evelyn cocked her head to the side in seeming hesitation and rung her hands to outlet her rising anxiousness for her outright lies._

"_I'm going to be leaving Gotham until this insanity is put to an end, or at least on a temporary hiatus."_

_Guilt coursed behind her nonchalant face as she watched confusion and dawning unhappiness cross Alexandria Mason's face. "I don't quite understand what you mean dear."_

_Evelyn froze her feelings and continued without batting an eyelash or betraying a single emotion that deigned otherwise._

"_I'm going to stay out of Gotham until The Joker is imprisoned or sent to Arkham. I'm terribly sorry, I really am, but I can't deal with this anymore."_

_Evelyn gestured beyond Mrs. Mason to the city that sprawled forth from the view of the office window, "Yesterday, in broad daylight, I watched our S.W.A.T. team shoot it out on the streets of Gotham! I was there Alexandria! As were other countless civilians."_

_Evelyn shook her head in disapproval and relented, "I've lived here for years, and I have always been aware of the danger. But..." She faltered for a moment, and then very seriously turned her eyes towards Mrs. Mason's._

"_The Joker isn't your average criminal. He is what he claims. He's an agent of chaos. For Pete's sake, even when he's arrested the man still manages to escape. He was thrown into Arkham only half a month ago and lo and behold, he's free._

"_I simply can no longer find reason to stay in a city where a criminally acclaimed manipulator uses the entire populace to PLAY with our local hero for his own twisted amusement."_

_Mrs. Mason remained silent, seeing no valid reason to argue when her employee's words were ringing true._

_Evelyn felt the knife of betrayal and lies twist in her heart for what she was saying. It hurt. It hurt because she knew that Mrs. Mason trusted her. It hurt because lies were wrong. It hurt because this might be the last time she would see Alexandria Rose Mason._

"_I have a very strong desire to live," Evelyn said firmly; her mask had already been set into place before she had arrived. To any average person it would have been frightening to see how easily Evelyn short circuited her emotions, and rewired that energy to lying so flawlessly, so effortlessly..._

_Albeit for Evelyn, it was as practiced an activity as putting on clothes. _

_Adding layer, after layer, until she was complete._

The smile that had graced her features dissipated into an emotionless blank expression.

She was going to miss Mrs. Mason.

But she wasn't going to _regret_ her. She had done the right thing. The _honorable_ thing.

And though she didn't know it...Mrs. Mason would have done the same for her.

A calm settled over her, and she breathed more easily as she signaled a cab. She wouldn't have been able to _cope_ if the only person in the world she didn't mind conversing with, _stopped_, for good.

With the sense of calm came a sense of gratitude as well. Mrs. Mason had been kind enough to hold onto her things 'till she returned.' And whereas she knew it was more than likely that she was not going to return, it was a matter of undoubted fact that she wouldn't of been able to carry anything on her shaky post-meeting legs.

Of course she felt better now that it was over, but her nerves weren't going to settle until she was back at her apartment, in her kitchen, cleaning, or cooking, or _something_.

A lone taxi pulled up alongside her and she let herself in. She directed him to the agreed upon coffee shop meeting place that Aidan had decided on and fasted herself in.

The ride was going to be a bit longer due to the chaos on the streets.

* * *

Mrs. Mason peered out quietly through the blinds that overlooked the street, spying Evelyn waiting patiently for a taxi on the sidewalk.

Alexandria had a knacking feeling that something wasn't quite right.

She had known Evelyn Rivers for many years now. In that time she had picked up on the young woman's quirks, her habits, and her odd and incredibly _tragic_ way of keeping others at bay, and emotionally out of reach.

There was simply something about Evelyn that charmed and intrigued her. Mrs. Mason knew that she was more than capable of doing great things. Her intelligence, poise, and character were what had drawn her to the girl in the first place. She had a way of commanding others when something needed to get done, but, _contrary_ to that ability, Evelyn had a way of blending into the background and perceiving the world with a quiet smile.

It was that quiet smile that drew her to look into Evelyn's personal life and past.

Sometimes it helped to oversee a library. Since her library had an underground archive on many important documents that the police had asked her to house for storage reasons...

_Well_, one could say that over many late night researching she had come to know the newly appointed Commissioner Gordon very well.

Of course their polite and cordial friendship had started _years_ before his recent promotion. Because of that friendship, he hadn't at all minded when she had requested a background report on a certain employee by the name of Evelyn Rivers. He hadn't thought twice of it when she had asked him for it, explaining that she had wanted to know more about the girl out of sheer curiosity.

It hadn't been a lie. And Mrs. Mason was sure that he hadn't even read it. He probably would have questioned her if he had.

Three years ago, over a cup of tea on a rainy Thursday afternoon, Mrs. Mason had read over the tragic past that belonged to Evelyn Renee Rivers. The police files brought resounding clarity to Evelyn's slight quirks and distant behavior.

In that manila folder, were the reasons why Evelyn's smile never quite reached her eyes.

That Thursday had been a humbling experience.

Alexandria remembered closing that folder, and praying that she would never have to bring it up again. She handed it back to Gordon's secretary with a smile and thanked her and Gordon for their time.

After that Thursday, Evelyn Rivers had a special place in Mrs. Mason's heart. And Mrs. Mason knew that she could NEVER let Evelyn catch onto that.

Though it might have been incredibly silly and arrogant of her, she wanted to be the one to coax Evelyn out of the protective shell she had, no, had been _required_ to draw about herself. With an incredible amount of pussy-footed care and nonchalant patience, Mrs. Mason had adopted an unknowing daughter.

She adored her from the day Evelyn reprimanded the Mayor's nephew for letting a door close in her face at the library's anniversary. Even when the little beastie had declared who he was in relation to Gotham's Mayor, Evelyn had scolded him all the much harder, reprimanding him for embarrassing the Mayor's reputation and smearing the people of Gotham's good name by acting like an 'uncivilized and arrogant little buffoon.' Mrs. Mason herself had been a little shocked when Evelyn had told the teenage boy (in front of the _Mayor_ no less), 'if you so desire to shout to the world who you are in hopes of being associated with your forefathers, be _prepared_ to represent the values behind your family's name.'

Mrs. Mason smiled fondly as she remembered the sheer mortification of the boy's parents and the Mayor, and the shocked an angry blush that had taken over the boy's face. Evelyn had simply shook her head in firm disapproval and walked away, honestly looking quite embarrassed to be in his presence, as if she feared she herself be associated with such uncouth behavior by proximity.

Yes. Alexandria had known Evelyn Rivers for a good and comfortable while.

Perhaps if she had not...

Well, it would be rather presumptuous of her to think she knew _everything_ about Evelyn. She would give her a few days to settle herself down and _then_ ask about her flighty behavior. Evelyn would undoubtedly be busy making arrangements, and she didn't want to press. She would e-mail her in a week and then see where things went from there.

Mrs. Mason brushed her concern away. She was more than likely just overreacting. Maybe those bombs had given her the willies.

Good grief, why was she _worrying_? Evelyn had looked just fine. As prim and proper as ever she had been.

Alexandria Mason decided to blame her overactive imagination on the latest suspense novel she had read. It would kill her to admit Evelyn was right about her penchant for acquiring her latest moods based on the book she was currently reading.

"Well, old girl," she muttered to herself, "A bit of good old fashioned desk work is just what you need to clear your head of this bloody nonsense you've started to daydream."

* * *

Evelyn paced furiously in her kitchen. In thirty more minutes The Joker would be knocking on her front door.

The idea was a bit absurd.

Nevertheless, it was _wracking_ her _nerves_.

She started a mental checklist. Aidan had left a few hours ago, belly full of chicken teriyaki, fried rice, and stir fried vegetables. Evelyn had picked at it here and there, and then had given the leftovers (which she had made sure to make plenty of) to give to Aidan to take... Well, wherever he went.

After she had sent him on his way, arms laden with enough food to keep him until morning at the very least, she had turned to her room and fished out her duffel bag from the top shelf of her closet.

She had decided it would be in her best interests if she made an 'overnight' bag should The Joker decide to kidnap her for a longer period of time. In it she had stowed away some clothes and pajamas, toiletries, her first aid kit, sneakers, a jacket, a couple of light paperbacks she hadn't yet read, granola bars, and a bottle of water.

Then she had made a quick trip to a privately owned bath store which specialized in making their own bath products. Evelyn would have had Aidan drive her there if she wasn't capable of the inconvenient emotion many referred to as embarrassment.

She had no problem casually mentioning to her 'chauffeur' that she would be giving his boss rub downs, but, letting him see her stock up on products to further that notion would have just made her feel ridiculous.

Sure, as a female, Evelyn had a plethora of lotions and a veritable brigade of smelly-scented concoctions for different uses. However, she doubted that someone as undeniably masculine as The Clown Prince of Crime would acquiesce to smell like a female.

Some things just didn't fly.

Yet, as foolish as she felt for stocking up on massage oil, she couldn't deny the sudden want to splurge and buy some amazingly fantastic smelling shampoo she had come across to match the masculine scent of the oil.

...which had led to the purchase of the conditioner as well...

It... was on... _sale_ damn it. A perfectly economical decision.

Evelyn physically waved away that train of thought as she paced and scooted over to the oven to check on dinner.

She had decided on steaks since that particular entrée had been mentioned to him without protest. She had made some mashed potatoes from scratch with just a bit of the skin left on for added flavor, had set aside some mixed steamed vegetables, and for the lack of anything better to do, had whipped up a peach cobbler for dessert.

The cobbler remained in her oven since it could be reheated, and on second thought brought out a pair of bowls.

Maybe he liked ice cream? Who didn't? Vanilla ice cream tasted fantastic with peach cobbler.

She hadn't cooked the steaks just yet, leaving them to marinate in a deep pan set next to the stove until her dinner guest arrived. She wanted those to taste fresh. The rest could be reheated over the stove without detracting much from the flavor, but with steaks, one only got one good chance to do it right the first time.

She perused through her refrigerator and after a moment of ogling her wide variety of juices and her half gallon of soy milk, she turned to her liquor cabinet.

Evelyn rarely drank, but she did possess some different types of liquid drug. Her eyes roamed over her Baileys, Zinfandel, Chardonnay, and her small bottle of tequila. The Zinfandel would do. She pulled some wine glasses from her cupboard and set them beside the dinnerware she had previously set on the breakfast bar.

The breakfast bar had been designed with parties in mind. Both sides of the breakfast bar contained built in barstools and seated six people total with three being on the living room side, and the other three seated in the kitchen. She fixed her seat in the kitchen, in case he needed her to fetch anything, and The Joker's in the living room, which offered the better view of her home.

It was quiet now, with her oven off and her pacing halted momentarily, everything was as dead as a doornail.

...she could turn on the radio, but that would require her to change the dial from the news station she kept it on. And since it was bloody hell getting it back to that exact spot on her numerical dial, she was against it. She would have the news station _on_, but she had grown tired of listening to the news casters bicker about 'that crazy clown that had blown half the city to Hell.'

Her hands fiddled idly with the pockets on her black apron before she pursed her lips in a mix of frustration and apprehension. She had already touched up the light bit of make-up she had put on earlier and there was really nothing more-

It was then that she heard it.

Someone was _trolloping_ up her stairway.

Anxiousness spasmed through her for an electric moment that almost made her shudder, and she felt her pulse increase dramatically. Reflexively she ran her fingers through her hair and made her way to the door.

She looked out the peephole and witnessed The Joker in deep conversation with her stray white cat.

As peculiar as that was, it didn't necessarily frighten her.

What frightened her was when she saw him pull out his knife, brandishing it menacingly at the snow white feline.

_Oh shit_.

* * *

Evelyn's name on her mailbox confirmed that he was at the right spot.

The Joker stood on an unlit section of the sidewalk before Evelyn's house and took it in.

It was as cute as his little Evie. _Bit taller though_... he rationed as he used his thumb and pointer finger to approximate her height at the door in comparison to the two story home from the angle he stood, squinting one eye as he did so.

He turned on his heels and waved the goon that had driven him away, his arm waving about a bit more sporadically than usual due to his excitement. His ride pulled away and joined the light traffic on the street with a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, and he merrily made his way up the stone steps.

The feline noticed him before he noticed it. Evelyn's porch light lit up the pristine white fur of the cat as it's blue eyes stared at him from its lounging position on the wide stone rail.

The scarred smile flared to life as he realized that same stone rail could also function as a small wall to bash its head against when the stray twitched its tail in annoyance at his arrival and proximity.

His eyebrows rose at the cat's reaction to his presence. It...wasn't afraid of him. As any other stray cat would and should be when confronted with a strange presence.

And he didn't mean to brag, but he was _pretty strange_.

The Joker grimaced. He didn't like that. He liked fear. He liked it when critters skittered out of his sight. He would just have to try a little harder. There was, after all, more than one way to skin a cat.

"Here kitty-kitty-kitty," he cooed in a rush to the feline as he crept up the steps like The Pink Panther music was playing in the background. He lilted his words in a deceptively playful manner.

"I think I've heard a popular saying about the likes of you. And I want to try a little _experiment_," he withdrew his knife and pointed to the cat with it, explaining with a purr and a chuckle, "And you're going to be specimen number _one_."

Amazingly, the cat had _still_ not moved, only now the lack of fear inspired delight in the Joker instead of discourse. He became practically giddy as his adrenaline started to beat faster with the knowledge of impending bloodshed.

The Joker reached towards the cat with a leering smile as he moved his free hand towards its small throat and-

-was taken by complete surprise when the front door swung inwards and released an apron clad Evie.

Busted.

Evelyn hid her fear behind a wide smile and practically threw herself at Gotham Public Enemy #1. She rushed at him with open arms, and as she threw her hands about him in a hug-

-she smoothly pushed the cat off the railing with enough strength to send him into a panic and out of The Joker's direct line of sight, and down the street under the protection of a parked car.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" Evelyn said with a cheerfulness that was reinforced by the terror that had gripped her moments prior. She squeezed her arms around him, burying her cheek against his hard chest as she started to chatter nervously, "I'm starving! And now that you're here I can start cooking those steaks."

The Joker had tensed up for a moment when Evie..._collided_ into him.

He had seen her sneaky little rescue out of the corner of his eye and scowled with a mix of good nature and discontent

Oh how Evie amused him. She was so full of surprises and her way of reacting to everything he did was by far her most _alluring_ attribute. When he was around her his world became a game. He laid down this set of cards, Evie dealt with them, then when he went to put out some more, the little tart _stole_ his hand.

He patted Evie's head in commendation, begrudgingly _somewhat_ proud of her.

However, his brow furrowed into a scowl as he watched the feline duck under a Toyota. He saw the tail slip under the shadows of the Corolla before Evelyn pulled him inside, mumbling about the neighbors catching sight of him because of her porch light or some other nonsense.

Before Evelyn managed to pull him inside completely he shook his fist at the pair of eyes that were watching him from the shadows..

_Your luck won't last forever cat_.

After managing by the grace of God to pull The Joker inside without a fresh coat of red paint on her doorstep, Evelyn closed the front door firmly behind them and turned to see that he had already managed to make himself at home.

He prowled about her living room taking off his outer jacket as he did so, choosing to leave it on the top of her couch. The Joker did a 360, his dark eyes completely surveying her first floor before they stopped to linger on the wall to wall bookshelf.

He chuckled and drawled, "Geez Evie, you really should get some _more_ books." He grimaced in mock horror, the facial expression severe with his fading white make-up that had been smeared away around his forehead and the trail of black from the side of his left eye to his hairline, and continued, "It would just be positively _ghastly_ if someone accused you of not having a wide enough selection."

Evelyn rolled her eyes and walked past him to the kitchen to tend to dinner. "I know they're not as entertaining as watching yourself on the news, but for the rest of us lowly mortals who warrant no attention from the general public, we are forced to find entertainment elsewhere."

"Saw that, did you?" he beamed with pride at her reference to his movie, following her into the kitchen.

Evelyn nodded, she had seen a replay of the video at the coffee shop Aidan had met with her in.

Her hands turned the dials on the stove, bringing flame to her burners so that they could reheat what she had already made, and cook what she had not.

She settled into a familiar stance in front of the stove and picked up her fork, stabbing it into the meat to set it on the heating pan.

The Joker slid behind her, positioning himself against her before leaning into to whisper into her right ear, his gloved hands on her hips, "Was I..._captivating_, Evie?"

His warm breath tickled her ear and she rubbed her shoulder into her ear to dispel the sensation, hearing him laugh as she did so. She looked over her shoulder to scowl up at him in a reprimanding fashion, then turned her attention back to dinner, "Yes. I liked the part where you put in that little memo bit to Batman. Much to my mortification when I saw it in a coffee shop, I giggled at the 'getting your rocks off' jab."

She felt him laugh lightly behind her, not enough to make it vocal, but enough to go through the motion as his hands squeezed her hips lightly.

"Careful Evie," he warned, chastising her, "Lest someone suggest your sense of humor is as devil-_ish_ as mine."

Evelyn picked up on his light mood and made good use of it, playing it to her advantage.

"Well, as long as _you_ don't mind my humor being 'devil-_ish_', I see no reason to be worried," she leaned back to give him a wink, "And after you taste my peach cobbler, I don't think I'll need to worry at all.

"Do you like vanilla ice cream by the way?"

The Joker leaned back now, still holding onto Evie to eye the contents behind the oven door, trying to peek between Evelyn's legs to no avail, "I have no..._objections_ to that particular flavor if that's what you're inquiring my dear."

Curious, he now looked over her shoulder to see what she was making. His eyes took in what was on the menu for the night and his grin didn't need the additional red paint to portray his satisfaction. Though he did taste it when he licked his chops in response to the smell that was rising from her pan.

"I'm glad you're so domestic Doll, ordering Chinese and robbing McDonalds _does_ get old after awhile.

"Sure, their 'let's put a smile on' advertising slogan reallllly messed with those teenage employee's minds when the likes of _me_ walked in there with some goons, but, one can only order _so many_ happy meals before they lose their appeal."

Evelyn's face screwed inwards as she refrained from smiling at the image The Joker had just painted, knowing she was going to Hell if she laughed out loud.

The Joker shook her to emphasize his next statement.

"I will go cuh-razy," he said raising his voice as he bit out the word in a growl, " if I am forced to endure one more chicken nugget. Heads will roll and I will paint those Godforsaken yellow arches _red_ with my own little take on their preposterous 'secret sauce.'"

Evelyn couldn't help herself as she asked, turning over the steaks as she did so, "Well, is A1 okay with you? If it's not, I'll just leave it in the fridge."

The Joker smiled, more to himself than for her benefit and rumbled down at her, "_Really_, I just love it when you do that. I appreciate humor, I _really_ do. But so far you seem to be the only one who doesn't seem bothered to share it with me. It's..."

He cocked his head to the side, drifting as he tried to think of the appropriate word.

"Stimulating," he grinned and swept up her hair in his hands, playing with it.

"Your hair is different today," he observed aloud, changing the subject.

He smoothed down the chocolate locks, twisting the mass of them for a few moments before letting them fall free. The Joker let his gloved fingers intertwine in the curls, taking notice in how his purple and red stained gloves contrasted against the sheen of her chocolate brown hair. The purple went nicely, the red _unfortunately_, not so much.

Evelyn stirred the mashed potatoes and allowed a small smile to grace the side of her mouth when she realized he was taking off his gloves to continue playing with her hair. She saw him fling them over the dividing counter to bounce off his jacket in the living room and shortly thereafter, felt him tease her tendrils between the flesh of his fingers.

It was soothing in the most unorthodox of ways. The gentle tug and pull brought back memories of when her mother would braid her hair, tugging the locks into pigtails that she would adorn with ribbons to match her clothes.

The young woman didn't know what to say to herself when it became undeniable that she missed the feeling.

The Joker chuckled darkly, signifying that he now knew the same.

"You like this, don't you? Even though I'm a bad, _bad_, man, I know you'll be disappointed when I stop."

Evelyn said nothing, but tensed a little when his bare hand snaked under her hair to wrap around the back of her neck.

The Joker applied a bit of pressure and flipped her hair over her shoulder to whisper in her ear again, this time choosing her left side, "Let's hear it, Evie. I want to hear you..._say it_."

This time it didn't tickle.

She shivered as her traitorous body responded in _anticipation_ at how he held her so dominantly, and her mind responded in apprehension that was logically blaring red klaxon alarms.

"I do like it," Evelyn admitted with a shrug, seeing no sense in lying, "It...feels good."

The hold on her neck released and she felt his fingertips dance away off her shoulders.

"See, Evie? That wasn't so _hard_," The Joker rumbled and plunged his hands back into her locks. He allowed Evelyn to return her attention to their meal and he returned his attention to her silky tresses.

It was..._interesting_ to touch someone like this. And he liked touching.

Touching was interesting as long as he was in control of what he was touching.

And Evie had no problem relinquishing that control.

He knew as much as Evie _would like to think_ she didn't like to be touched, her body _did_. He could feel it respond to him. It was her own little overprotective mentality that overrode the way her body wanted to react to him.

He loved messing with her.

...though that was probably because she was so innocent. She had so much _potential_ to be thoroughly corrupted. And she had just offered herself right up to him. His to play with, his to touch, his to do _whatever_ the Hell he wanted with.

In a manner of speaking, his whims were her every command.

And he liked how she understood this. As much as Evie looked like a pretty little doll, she did possess a brain.

Which, she knew he would blow away if she upset him any.

She was a smart girl to know that no one could really save her.

It was like what he told the Bat...

He was unstoppable.

He would bring chaos to the world and watch it burn as screams unending filled the noise in the distance until that maddening sound was all anyone could remember hearing. When fires lit up out of the darkness to show everyone how completely inhumane human beings really were when there were no more RULES, he would feel satisfaction. He would only stop when what was left started to look as strange as him.

He couldn't stop until the world reflected the darkness that rose from him in bursts of insanity while he was still ironically SANE enough to UNDERSTAND how fucked up he really was.

He smiled down at Evelyn and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head atop of hers as he watched her turn her attention to the vegetables.

His little Evie was going to have front row tickets.

Or rather...

A backstage pass.

* * *

AN: Okay, I know, it's been forever since I've updated. But this week was my first week back to college with my full five classes of Government, Algebra, Drama, Chemistry, and Kickboxing. Now, add my part time employment at my work, which schedules me 9 hour shifts, and here is the reason why I haven't updated so quickly. So bear with me guys, please? Don't abandon me! I'll feel all sad and whatnot if I don't keep getting such great reviews.

And, by the way, if anyone is wondering why my chapter titles are so gay, it's because when I wrote chapter one, I decided to name each chapter after a Heart song. Not because the song reflects the chapter in any way (except for maybe chapter one), but because... Well... I don't really know. I just started with it so I'm going to keep doing it. But if some of you were wondering WTF, this is FYI.

...So...how was this chapter? Favorite parts? Hated parts? Funny parts?

And of course, as always, this chapter has been beta'd by the lovely .Verbal.Rape. because she's freaking awesome.

**And welcome to my "props" section, where I will give props to Sweet Little Nightmares for inspiring this part of my story (this part is entirely hers):**

****

"I'm glad you're so domestic Doll, ordering Chinese and robbing McDonalds _does_ get old after awhile.

So this is where I give her credit, because as a reader and a friend, she writes me the _funniest_ e-mails


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 - Shell Shock

Evelyn almost held her breath when he rested his head atop hers.

She was beginning to get the impression that the idea of personal space was a foreign concept to him.

With the Clown Prince of Crime flush against her, it was hard to concentrate on something as ordinary as mixed veggies. Nonetheless, she forced herself to at least _try_ and stir in some seasoning off of her rotating spice rack.

She bit her lip in worry when she almost reached for cinnamon by mistake.

"Am I..._distracting_ you, Evie?" he asked, voice filled with obvious amusement.

Evelyn laughed nervously, "Well, it's not like I can blame you. Your presence is like a gravitational pull, it's difficult _not_ to notice."

"As I mentioned before, flattery will get you everywhere Doll."

Evelyn laughed lightly now, "I'm not trying to sweet talk you, it's _true_. You have this way about you that just demands attention."

She cocked her head to the side and looked up at him over her shoulder, adding, "And you're very intimidating."

He rumbled against her, musing aloud, "You seem to handle it _well enough_."

_Careful Evelyn. He's in a good mood because he got to play with fire today. Try and make it last. He's letting you live because you're entertaining to him._

His doll laughed, "Well, that's because I have tricks up my sleeve."

The Joker felt genuine curiosity pique and he suddenly hugged her more fiercely to him, shaking her a bit in his excitement, "Oh? Do tell, do tell."

Evelyn turned off the stove top burners and with a coy smile said, "If you untie my apron and let me serve I'll tell you."

The Joker withdrew from her and located the apron bow on the back of her waist. Impatiently, he tugged both ends at once and smiled.

It was like untying a present.

Evelyn slipped the apron off over her head and laid it to rest on the counter. She picked up the steak pan and moved to the breakfast bar, politely instructing as she moved, "Go ahead and sit down, I'll serve. I know you had a busy day blowing up our local S.W.A.T. boys, so it's the least I can do."

He moved to the table, taking his seat, and, liking where this was going, drawled slowly, "You...don't sound too _upset_ about that."

Of course Evelyn was upset that he had blown up all twenty-five members of the S.W.A.T. team's houses. She hadn't watched the news long enough to see what the body count had been, but, the dark part of her mind reasoned that with their line of work they should have known the risks.

He watched her shrug and set the steak down on his plate, "In a way, you were right on that video you made. They really could have got me killed. Maybe if they wouldn't have been so careless, they wouldn't have gotten themselves blown up. They're members of a _tactical_ force; they should have been expecting something like that."

The Joker smiled his eyes crinkling at the edges as he did so, "I like the way you think, Evie."

He moved to set his elbows on the table when Evelyn moved to her side to set down her steak, and pressed his pointer fingers together, "Now, what about these _tricks_ you speak of?"

Evelyn set her steak down and moved back to the stove, fetching the mashed potatoes.

When she came back to The Joker's side she scooped him up a hearty amount of potatoes and replied as she put them on his place, "I bought you some presents today."

He clapped his hands together, "Oh goody! Not only are you my favorite toy, but you bring me _other_ toys as well."

Evelyn served herself and with an awkward smile explained, "Well, I wouldn't classify them as 'toys' but they are for you. When I was out shopping today I saw some things that I wasn't quite sure if you would like, but I was in a giving mood and was certain they couldn't hurt. Needless to say, if you don't like them it's not like you have to use them."

The Joker frowned, his thought processes whirling as he tried to guess what in the world his Evie could have gotten him. He whirled around in his stool and looked about the house once more, trying to see if she had set them down somewhere.

"But I don't _see_ anything, Evie," he said quietly, impatience creeping into his voice.

_Uh oh. Better fix that faaast Evelyn_.

"Well," she stumbled a bit over the word, trying to think quickly, "I, I plan on boozing you up a bit first. You might like them more if you're content with food and wine."

The Joker looked deadpan at her for a moment before raising an eyebrow, "_Usually_, Sweets, when you're trying to booze someone up, you don't really tell them that _ahead_ of time. It kind of..._defeats_ the purpose if you tell them your true in-ten-tions."

Evelyn paused at the table, pot of mashed potatoes still in hand, and admitted with a straight face, "Well...I planned on boozing myself up too. I figured it would only be fair."

The Joker laughed now, this time in high pitched cackles of delight.

"You _realllly_ must be worried that I won't like them if you're going to toss back some glasses _with_ me Evie," he said, a devilish grin partaking the right side of his scarred mouth, "You just don't seem like the type to let yourself lose complete control of your bodily functions."

He leaned over the table and picked up the bottle of wine, reading the label and continuing, "And we both know that red wine is fully capable of doing that given the right amount of...dosage."

Evelyn went to go fetch the veggies, and looked over her shoulder as she did, "Well, we both know that I like to live dangerously.."

He guffawed loudly in a few short barks and propped his head up with a hand when his laughter died and ideas sparkled behind his dark eyes in pure malevolence.

The Joker watched her closely as she retrieved the vegetables, and withdrew his knife smoothly, loving how Evie stopped in her tracks when the gleaming metal reflected the lights overhead. He had a strong feeling that if he moved too suddenly, she was going to drop her pot of veggies, and the multi-colored mass of them would decorate her shiny tile floor, adding color to the otherwise..._dull_ white.

Evelyn's breath caught when she saw him pull out his knife from his pocket, her eyes catching the slight curve at the blade's tip with morbid fascination.

_Good job Evelyn, you just had to give him ideas didn't you_?

He purred, and the sound drew her eyes away from the deadly silver, and to his dark orbs.

"If you want Evie," his tongue flipped over his lips in a signifying alteration of his mood, "I could spice dinner up for the two of us. Make it as dan-_ger_-ous as a dinner for two could _possibly_ get."

Evelyn said nothing after he paused, choosing to keep her big mouth shut. Her breathing slowed and she steeled herself for his anger, her fingers holding onto the pot of veggies with more force. She wondered if she was going to need it as a weapon. She might not make it out alive, but she sure as Hell wasn't going to stand idly by while he carved her face away. The wooden serving spoon could be used to blind him...permanently, in one eye at least.

The Joker twirled the knife in his hands, his dexterous fingers balancing the blade in falling dips between his knuckles. He noticed how her poise had slightly changed, how she was bracing herself.

In the fluorescent kitchen lighting, he could see her knuckles turning white.

The blade stopped dancing in his hand and he shook it at her, "That's another thing I like about you, Evie."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but her grasp on the pot never lessened.

The Joker closed the blade and commanded with a quiet growl, "Hurry up and serve Evie, before dinner gets cold; I'm not going to wait all night."

She obeyed, but he knew that she was only complying so readily because he had put his smile maker away. He had seen the way she had clutched the pot, her instincts flaring to defend herself.

Oooh. She had a little _fight_ in her.

Evelyn came to him carefully in measured steps, her hazel eyes wide as she watched him intently. She stopped when she was within a foot of him, and slowly used the spoon to dish out the vegetables onto his plate, her eyes only flickering away from his when absolutely necessary.

He waited until the pan was hovering over the counter top before he leisurely fisted his hand in her hair, and pulled her towards him, taking his time as he did so, thus not causing so much as sharp pain, but a keen sense of discomfort.

It was only because Evelyn sensed no malice behind the action that she let him guide her without a fight. She dropped the pan on the counter when it became too awkward for her to hold onto and tumbled closer to him, using the ebony counter to counter-balance his hold so that she wouldn't fall.

He spoke into her ear, ignoring the rapid falls of her chest and her darting eyes as she rigidly held herself firm in his clutch, "It _thrills_ the dark little animal inside of me that you have this almost _instinctive_ notion as to when to submit to me, and when to _fight_."

He eased his hold in the tendrils he had played with earlier, and started to lightly caress the side of her neck in the most gentle of touches as his free hand kept an ambivalently fierce hold on her upper arm.

The Joker closed his eyes as if he was savoring a fantasy, "You're the best doll _I _could ever ask for. You fear me..." He trailed, then opened his eyes sharply, "But you know you'll last longer if you _please_ me."

He squeezed her arm forcefully, to the point where his fingers were digging blue-black splotches on her frail arm, continuing to apply painful pressure until he paused to admire the little noise she made in the back of her throat that sounded _lovely_ to his ears, "You look so, so BEAUTFUL Evie, when you're afraid."

Evelyn _was_ afraid. Her mind was having a hard time readjusting to his explosive mood when he was holding her arm so _harshly_, and her neck so _gently_. His ability to exert such control over her body frightened her more effectively than his knives. She wilted for a moment in uncertainty before her mind snapped to attention.

_Why am I afraid? Stop being so pathetic! He's just fucking around with you! Don't give in to that! You've dealt with things like this before. He's no better than any of your past 'father' figures._

_He may be The Joker. But he's something as simple as a MAN underneath that costume._

The callous thought of obvious knowledge coursed through her and she took strength from it.

_He can bleed just as easily as me._

_It might not be as much, but it'll be enough to give your death enough dignity Evelyn. Enough pride._

The Joker released her arm to grab her chin and forced her eyes to look into his. He had noticed the subtle change of thought that had passed behind her hazel eyes, empowering her previously limp form.

He smiled when he felt her muscles tense, enjoying the way she was responding with maddening glee, "But it's the look in your eyes behind that fear that lets me know you wouldn't scream for mercy. _Wouldn't_ beg and sob and plead. _Wouldn't_..._go down_ _without a fight_."

He laughed lightly, and he released her so quickly that it was almost a push, "Even though you _know_ you would _lose_ Evie..."

Evelyn stumbled and used the counter to regain her balance.

"You wouldn't bend over and take it."

The Joker leaned back in his chair and inclined his head towards her, "I know now that if I were to really-"

He remained in his chair as he jumped a little towards her, arms outstretched as if he was trying to scare her, "-COME AT YOU with the intent to kill you-"

The Joker's abrupt movement had made her eyes reflexively flinch, but Evelyn held her ground, feeling as though it would be in her best interests not to give him a reason to latch onto her again.

He sobered and continued in a monotone voice, "-you wouldn't die a coward's death.

"_No, no, no_, you're much too jaded for _that_ Evie. Much _too aware_ of the darkness in men's hearts to react to it so _innocently_. I have a knacKING feeling that I'm not the first person with monster-_rous_ intent you've come across. You react to my vice of violence too well. Did you think I hadn't noticed?"

Evelyn bit her lip, and wished he wouldn't have.

The Joker grinned at her evilly, and prompted, his voice a sinister mask of malice, "Can you remember the day your innocence was lost?

"I'm sure you _do_," he clicked his tongue and continued, "Ya know what I'm talking about _right_? But if you need help remembering, look at your scar, they have an OVERLY helpful little way of making us REMEMBER. Hmmmm? Is it coming back to you _nowww_?" He purred, "That _fateful_ memory that now defines all of your little insecurities and pitiful inability to trust?"

She straightened rigidly against the counter, and angled herself so that she could more fully devote her attention to him. Partly because her wounded dignity was causing quiet anger to rise within her, and partly because she hoped that it would please him, maybe divert some of his anger into something else. The muscles in her jaw clenched.

_Anything but this._

"Do you ever let yourself cry because your feelings are about as meaningful to you as the idea of them are to the LIKES OF ME? You know, between you and me, it makes watching people die all the much more _interesting_ when I don't have to worry about getting all choked up and missing some of the best parts."

_Emotions are useless, Evelyn. Just because a murderer has come to the same conclusion... That doesn't mean anything._

Right?

He chuckled darkly and leaned forward to the immobile Evie, grabbing the steak knife beside his plate to place under the delicate flesh of her jaw, where it connected with the top of her bare throat.

Even though her mind registered that he was moving towards her, her body froze like a deer in headlights for a scant minute while she was registering his words in her mind, too caught up in his cruel words to divert her attention where it was most needed.

He had thrown her off balance just long enough for him to place the knife against her throat, while his other hand held the back of her neck in place.

She kicked herself in mental fury when he pressed down hard enough to make her bleed.

His smile was full of ridicule when he caught the anger flash upon her face, "Oh, what's this? I thought you said you liked danger?"

He tsked at her and winced dramatically, "I didn't realize this was a secret no one had whispered to you before but..."

The Joker laughed, almost childishly, "You know how you like to live dangerously?"

The laughter stopped, and he said with an interlace of violence as he shook her with a quiet roar, "Well I like to be the one CAUSING it."

Evelyn felt a drop of blood drip from her neck, and down the middle of her chest, where she knew it was splashing a bit of color to her lingerie..

The Joker had stopped his shaking to watch the blood disappear down her shirt.

Blood. It probably wasn't the first time she had seen it.

The Joker's face cracked into his full on grotesque smile.

He could find out.

The Joker released her again, and before his fingers left her, he smeared the thin trail of blood across what bare skin her shirt offered and held up his bloodstained fingertips for her inspection.

"Does this look familiar to you Evie?"

Unbidden memories stirred in Evelyn's mind as her fingers curled on top of the black counter in response to his baritone voice and observations.

In flashes of the past, much like a rapid still frame slide show, violent and disturbing images flickered in her mind. Though time had long past since her adolescence she could still remember the thuds of landing blows, the smacks that flesh made when it collided against each other. The crunch of her ribs as one of them had cracked. Blood in the bathroom sink, and the memory of looking up to see the bruised and emotionally broken face that had stared back with cold and angry hate.

Then the emptiness that had followed. The cooling of her heated blood that had ended with the shedding of too few tears before she had shuddered out an exhale, and willed a masking smile on her temporarily marred face and bleeding lips.

She didn't care anymore. Part of her must have deserved this. _Unless you want more battle kisses, you better learn to dance around his anger better. You'll look just like your mother if you're not careful, Evelyn Renee. If you pretend like he doesn't bother you, he won't bother to waste his anger on you_.

The memories were whisked away when The Joker snapped his red tipped fingers. Bringing her back to reality and shoving her out of memories she had been so very careful to hide away.

Evelyn's startled hazel eyes flickered back to his in uncertainty, before the confusion cleared and she remembered where she was, and _who_ she was with. A morbid calm overtook her when she realized she was no longer in that bathroom, and could no longer see that horrid look on her bruised and bloody face.

The Joker had snapped her back to reality before she could remember the look in her tainted eyes. ...the one look that had caused her to break that damned mirror for so openly revealing to the world and to herself that part of her had died that lonely night.

The Joker watched as emotions and memories haunted his Evie's lovely face, the subtle expressions making her look much younger. Much more ..._vulnerable_.

Her vulnerability was HIS now. Those emotions would belong to him alone. He would be the cause of her every emotion. No matter WHAT they were.

His little Evie was his to play with now. This little demon from her past had no place in the present.

"Come back to me Evie," he warned in a dangerously lilting tone, "We both know that I'm sending you down a trip to memory lane, but remember that you're doing so on MY time. Whoever that person was, _I_ don't _give_ a _damn_, and you shouldn't either..."

_He just...ripped me open...with a few words...he..._

_That person. HE wasn't the one that fucked you all up Evelyn. It was-_

_NO. No. ...no. _

Evelyn wished his words hadn't of inspired her dark memories to rise from the past which she had locked them away in. She had been careful to _forget_ about that. Careful to _ignore_ the unpleasantness it was associated with. It was easier for her to be strong if she didn't have to remember what it was like to be at her most weak.

The Joker laughed in a tauntingly high pitch, egging on her mental collapse. "You shouldn't even _care_ about them anymore."

_That word. There it is Evelyn. Remember how it went?_

He was unraveling her.

Emotional agony gripped at Evelyn's fortitude and it spasmed through her suddenly weak body as she remembered the blank and uncaring look on her mother's face. A memory that had risen before she could push it away.

It escaped.

"_**What makes you think I love you Evelyn?**_

"_**I don't **_**care**_** about you at all."**_

Evelyn clenched her teeth tightly as her vision blurred and stumbled for a moment before she began to fall, her choice of shoes offering little traction on the smooth floor, and now, in the sarcastic part of the back of her mind, she was regretting her choice in footwear for the day.

He moved so fast, it took Evelyn a moment to realize he had caught her.

She breathed in and out in trembles.

His right hand had secured her against him by wrapping around her waist, while his left had pressed the area between her shoulder blades against him possessively. Her hands clutched to him desperately and instinctively, one hand curled in the folds of his jacket in a near death grip, while the other held onto his shoulder.

Her left cheek on down pressed against the hard planes of his body and she withered against him for a breathless moment, not knowing what to do, or say.

She needed a moment-

-to pick herself up from where he had figuratively floored her.

The Joker wasn't kind enough to grant it to her.

His hand moved from in between her shoulders when he deemed that he could without her falling backwards. The way her fingernails clawed into his clothes was a _slight_ giveaway.

The Joker's hand smoothed down her hair in a seemingly soothing gesture, and he shushed her for a few moments, very gently rocking her to and fro as he did so.

"Shh, shh, shhhh. You don't have to worry about those people anymore.

"You only have to worry about little 'ol _me_."

His hand moved to caress the side of her face, and then guided her head to bring her devastated hazel eyes up for his viewing pleasure.

Evelyn weakly brought her gaze up from his green vest and drab gray purple jacket (with The Joker's assistance), to look up at his brutally scarred face. Her eyes roved over the Glasglow grin and the fading clown make-up before they unconsciously peered underneath to piece together, from her memories of the night before, his _real_ face.

It was unusual that her mind drew it out. Unsettling that she could even _recognize_ it. _Wrong_, that in a way, she wished that he wouldn't cover his scars...

...so then her own wouldn't be so bare for his black eyes to see.

That devilishly handsome visage that she found was the one that now looked intently at her, claiming her with deadly resolution that couldn't be covered with something as simple as face paint...

"Because you're mine now."

* * *

AN: Good, bad? Horrible? Am I doing a good enough job? I tried to get this up as quickly as I could. But an incredible amount of thanks goes to .Verbal.Rape. for being a trooper and poppin some aspirin to beta this chapter ASAP and let me get it posted before midnight! Woot!

And everyone should thank Pink Hatter for abandoning me and giving me nothing to do for a whole day, thus safeguarding everyone a speedy story update. (Take that Ellie. TAKE THAT.)

Much love to my beta. But I am super tired now. So...

Review? Please? You love me? Joker more? That's okay.


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